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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319226">Secrets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262'>nimrod262</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Able Team SOU - Freeform, Agent Granite - Freeform, BSAA Clean-Up Team, BSAA NAB, BSAA WAB, C-Virus, DOMA, F/M, Green Umbrella, M/M, Nivanfield, Nivanfield AU, Nivanfield writing, Olifield, Olivans, Richard Toll, Roleplay, Saint-Louis, Scuba Diving, Senegal, Smoking, Strong Language, T-Virus, Valeveira, W.Africa, Weed, wetsuits</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:41:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Able Team SOU of the BSAA’s NAB are in North Africa responding to a possible t-virus outbreak.  Led by Captain Chris Redfield and his Lieutenant, Piers Nivans.  There seem to be a lot of secrets, on the team, with Command, and the true intentions of an old adversary.  Can Jill Valentine help, or just add to the mystery?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Oliveira/Chris Redfield, Carlos Oliveira/Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira/Piers Nivans, Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Rank Has Its Privileges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A new Nivanfield tale, a new Nivanfield AU.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fires still burned on the small container ship that had brought the virus into the obscure North African port. Its steel skeleton creaked and groaned as it settled down slowly by the bows. Lower and lower into the now dirty blue water, leaking oil and life. Its funnel bore a large logo, a circular shape, in alternating green and white segments. Underneath were 3 letters, also in green. GUL.</p><p>Bodies of the undead lay scattered around the docks and warehouses. Soon the BSAA Clean-Up teams would come and burn them, and the area would be decontaminated. Part of the BSAA’s neutralize then sterilize approach. But for now, the fighting was over. The Special Operations Unit were gathered in the shabby offices of a long defunct shipping company. Now made even shabbier by its broken windows and blood-spattered walls. A corporal tended his sergeant’s wounded hand. Another corporal huddled over his radio. It crackled into life as Command called them up.</p><p>“Your SITREP please Able”</p><p>“Fighting has ceased, the port area is clear and contained externally by the local militia. There are some scattered fires, nothing serious. The target ship is slowly sinking. It’s still burning …”</p><p>“Any injuries?”</p><p>“Able 3 has a hand injury, otherwise we’re all Ok.”</p><p>“Good. Inform Captain Redfield your extraction has been delayed. Your ride is having an engine changed due to sand ingestion. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning when it brings the clean-up team. We’ll give you a more accurate ETA when we have one. ”</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>“Sorry Able 4. Make yourselves comfortable for the night. Command out.” The radio fell silent again.</p><p>“Fuck … !” The radio operator went in search of his captain. “… Boss?” He found him outside, sitting on a rusting bollard, enjoying his quiet ‘smoke’.</p><p>Ben knew better than to interrupt the captain’s downtime. He waited patiently.</p><p>The 'smoke’ sputtered and went out. In one smooth, continuous action, the captain took out his Zippo from his jacket pocket, flicked the lid open, relit the spliff and put the treasured lighter back inside the pocket.</p><p>The Zippo had been a gift from his sister Claire. Originally it had been painted in camouflage colors. But he’d found it was difficult to find amongst all his combat gear when he needed it in a hurry. One long flight back to base, he’d carefully removed all the paint and polished the bare metal below until the lighter shone like a new penny. Then it was just like her. It wasn’t what you saw on the surface. The best lay underneath. God, he missed her.</p><p>He took a final long draw, then threw the roach onto the earth and ground it in with his boot heel. It was only then he seemed to notice the tall, sandy haired corporal waiting quietly nearby. He looked up with a blood spattered face. Unshaven, unwashed. He looked like something from a nightmare. But he spoke softly.</p><p>“Must have been pretty here once Benny.”</p><p>“Mmm, everywhere tends to end up looking the same after we’ve been there Sir.”</p><p>“Yes, sadly.” a pause for one last moment of inner reflection. “Ok, what’s up?”</p><p>“Uh, there was a message from Command, Captain. Our extraction is delayed until tomorrow.”</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>“That’s what I said.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Engine change due to sand ingestion. I also gave them an update on our status, save you the trouble.”</p><p>“Thanks, good job Sparks. I’ll come and brief the team.”</p><p>“Um, the El Tee’s still up on the roof. Shall I fetch him?”</p><p>“No, leave him be. I’ll brief him personally later.”</p><p>As he got up, there was a brief metallic shriek, followed by clouds of steam and a hissing sound as the engine room of the ship flooded, and she settled on the bottom of the harbor. Only the funnel now remained above the surface. The Captain looked at the logo once more. GUL. Green Umbrella Lines. Why did that not surprise him? What did surprise him was that Command hadn’t mentioned it earlier. Now why was that?</p><p>He shrugged, then followed Ben back into warehouse. Inside, he put his troubling thoughts to one side as he took time to check each member of his team in turn.</p><p>First Andy, 'Able 3’, the team’s cynical, yet respected sergeant. And one of the Captain’s oldest friends in the BSAA. Which didn’t alter the fact that the man was a rogue, a thief and a liar. If you needed something, he would be the one that got it for you, providing you didn’t enquire too closely how.</p><p>Then there was Ben, the team’s senior corporal and army barmy. Steady and dependable. 'Able 4’ was the tallest on the team, and so by long military tradition, the team’s radioman, for which duty he was nicknamed Sparks.</p><p>Next was Carl, 'Able 5’, the team’s junior corporal. A practical joker and willing fall guy to his sergeant. He was also the team medic, and would respond to 'Doc’ just as easily as '5’ or 'Hey, you!’</p><p>And finally, Finn, the team’s rookie, though not in the room at this precise moment. Green-eyed, green-gilled, guileless and gullible. Forever the butt of his sergeant’s dark humor, and loved all the more for it by the others. He was 'Able 6’, but whether he would ever be fully able was a question that continually plagued his sergeant.</p><p>The captain wasn’t sure what held them all together, especially when you added Piers Nivans to the mix, seemingly happy in his own company up on the roof at present. The academy trained lieutenant was the team’s marksman. Arrogant to the point of rudeness, often aloof, it should have been like mixing oil with water. But 'West Point’ loved his captain, held him together in the dark times. And so the men loved him for that, each in his own way. Although, naturally, they would never admit it.</p><p>Chris smiled briefly. They’d all made it again, thank God. The next thing he did was check his sergeant’s right hand. Then he lit two cigarettes and passed one to the seated man. It was received in a grateful, but trembling, left hand. Chris tousled his hair affectionately.</p><p>“You’ll live.”</p><p>“I always do. Just there’s a little less of me each time.”</p><p>“Try and get some rest. Uh, where’s the rookie by the way?”</p><p>“In the washroom, talking to God on the big white telephone.”</p><p>As if on cue, Finn came in. Nervous green eyes currently framed in a pale green face.</p><p>His captain smiled at him fondly. “You did good today kid. It get’s easier, trust me.”</p><p>Finn went to salute. “Sir, yes … Bleurgh!”</p><p>The captain neatly sidestepped the stream of vomit then slapped Finn on the back.</p><p>“Better out than in rookie!”</p><p>Finn vomited again.</p><p>They all laughed, until Chris put his hand up for them to be silent. “Listen up ladies, our ride’s delayed till morning …”</p><p>The news was met with groans all round. No one liked to stay in a combat zone longer than necessary. The stench of dead, rotting, flesh pervaded everything. Your clothes, your hair, even your food.</p><p>Chris knew his team needed a morale booster, so he dropped his own back pack onto the ground in front of them. “… Take whatever you want from my pack, food, juice, cigarettes.”</p><p>“What about you Cap?”</p><p>“I’ll share the Lieutenant’s. He always packs a little extra.”</p><p>“So I hear.” Andy smirked.</p><p>“Hmm, what else you heard Sergeant?”</p><p>“N,nothing Cap.”</p><p>The captain squatted down in front of him and whispered. “Good, best keep it that way.”</p><p>“I didn’t mean …”</p><p>“I know old friend. Sorry, I’m just tired. Is the rookie up to speed?</p><p>"I’m not sure. I get the feeling he might need some diagrams when it’s time to explain. After he stops throwing up that is.”</p><p>“Give him some slack. We were all green once.”</p><p>“Even you?”</p><p>“Yeah, even me. So long ago now, I barely remember.”</p><p>“The major would.”</p><p>“She never forgets a damn thing, or let’s you forget either. The lieutenant and I will share the graveyard shift, Ok? Usual drill … here, take some more cigarettes.”</p><p>“He still doesn’t like you smoking?”</p><p>“No. He thinks he’s gotta’ reform me.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“It’s like a rock and a hard place. Best not to get caught between them. Comprende?”</p><p>“Understood Cap.”</p><p>“Good.” The captain patted his shoulder, then stood upright. “Alright Able, that’s it for now. Get some scran, sleep, play with yourselves, whatever. Benny, you got the radio. Andy, the usual watch routine. I’ll go and see what West Point’s got to offer.” He strode out of the room.</p><p>Green eyes followed him. “Where’s the captain going Sergeant?”</p><p>“What!”</p><p>“He doesn’t know Sarge.” volunteered Ben.</p><p>“Listen up rookie. Our captain and our lieutenant have what you might call an arrangement.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Do you want me to draw you some pictures?”</p><p>“I still don’t understand. What did he mean, 'see what West Point’s got to offer’?.</p><p>"The captain has <em>two</em> right hands kid, what do you think?” But in case the rookie didn’t think, Andy emphasized his meaning with a crude right-handed gesture. As soon as he did it, he realized it was a stupid thing to do with his injured hand. It hurt like hell. “Argh! Goddammit!”</p><p>“Oh … Ohh!” Finn added crimson to his green theme.</p><p>The sergeant tried to recover his composure. “Talking of right hands, is someone gonna’ help me tonight? Doc?”</p><p>“No way Bro! Use your left hand or not at all!”</p><p>“Duly noted in your records. Lacks team spirit.”</p><p>Carl laughed. “Ha, ha! We get to play with ourselves, he gets to play with the El Tee.”</p><p>“You really mean they … the two of them … like, together?” Finn still couldn’t believe it.</p><p>“RHIP rookie.”</p><p>“Uh?”</p><p>“Do you know anything? RHIP, Rank Has Its Privileges. Don’t they teach you that at infantry school any more?”</p><p>“I, er … Oh dear!”</p><p>“It’s Able’s biggest secret. And it stays on Able. You understand me Private?”</p><p>“Y,yes Sergeant. But the captain? I mean, he’s so, so …”</p><p>“Ain’t he just! Now how 'bout you give me an injection tonight?”</p><p>“Sarge!?”</p><p>“Morphine you idiot! This hand is killing me! Then you can take the first watch and I won’t care if we all get jumped on by some flesh-eating broad cos you’ve fallen asleep.”</p><p>“I won’t Sarge, I promise.”</p><p>“Good, cos if you did, so help me, I’d rise up from the dead and eat you myself, singlehanded.”</p><p>“Er, tee-heh Sarge. That’s very funny.”</p><p>“Sweet Jesus! Someone put me out of my misery with this kid! Injection! Now!”</p><p>
  <strong>************************</strong>
</p><p>Chris had to climb over the tangled bodies as he made his way up the stairs. They filled the doorway onto the roof chest high. All with their heads blown apart. Able 2 had clearly been busy. This was confirmed by the number of spent cartridges that lay scattered over the flat roof. The lieutenant was sat with his back against an old air-con unit, cleaning his beloved sniper rifle. The captain smiled.</p><p>“Quiet day at the office West Point?”</p><p>Piers looked up, catching the sensuous swell and curve of the captain’s pectorals under the tight green tactical vest, their 'bounce’ as he walked towards him. He couldn’t help but wet his lips in anticipation. Even so, he still played it cool.</p><p>“You think? No one told me I had to look after my own six in this job!”</p><p>“If you’re not up to it …”</p><p>“I’m always up for it!”</p><p>“Right answer. Come here and let me thank you personally.”</p><p>“Um, was that the foreplay over?”</p><p>“Do you wanna’ fuck or not?”</p><p>“I bet you say that to all the lieutenants.”</p><p>“Hmm, not <em>every</em> one.”</p><p>“Who else?”</p><p>“You’re jealous!”</p><p>Piers rose and squared up to him. “Without wishing to repeat you Captain, do you wanna’ goddamn fuck or not?”</p><p>“Now <em>that’s</em> foreplay … !”</p><p>“What kept you?”</p><p>“Been looking after the boys.”</p><p>“I suppose you gave them your rations again?”</p><p>“You know me so well.”</p><p>“They alright?</p><p>"Andy’s got a busted hand, he’ll be Ok.”</p><p>“And the rookie?”</p><p>“He’s puking up.”</p><p>“I worry about him.”</p><p>“That doesn’t sound like you, showing concern about others.”</p><p>“I mean I worry if I made the right choice. With him.”</p><p>“Ah, that’s more like it, you thinking about yourself. He just needs time. Like you did.”</p><p>“That was different.”</p><p>“Not really. You both needed a home, needed a cause … You both found me. He thinks I’m awesome.”</p><p>“So do I.”</p><p>“See, you’re really not that different after all. Only he doesn’t get to … Mmphh! What was that for?”</p><p>“You were getting sentimental. Enough talk.”</p><p>“You want some action?”</p><p>“Jeez, just screw me already!”</p><p>Piers pulled him in roughly, bitting his captain’s lip as he did. Chris opened his mouth in surprise. Spattered as he was in other’s blood, it was still a shock to taste his own. Then the lieutenant’s tongue forced its way into his mouth, seeking out and dominating his. For a moment Chris gasped for air, surprised at the speed and ferocity of Piers’ assault, before recovering and going on the attack himself.</p><p>They snarled and grunted, wrestling each other to the ground. Soon the captain’s strength told and he quickly pinned the lighter man down.</p><p>“I’ve seen you looking at my ass, don’t pretend you don’t want it.”</p><p>“Talk is cheap Captain!”</p><p>“Like you then!”</p><p>“Rraww!”</p><p>They tore the clothes off of each other, then took it in turns. Top or bottom, it didn’t matter. Here they were equals. Their sex was violent, animalistic. More a celebration of the fact they had survived another mission, rather than celebrating the victory itself. They never discussed it, but they both knew it could be their last time together. Their one, unspoken fear. So they sweated and grunted, living for the now, least they loose it. Uncaring of the past, and afraid of the future. Writhing together over the spent cartridge cases. Watched only by the mound of sightless dead. And the whirling stars above.</p><p>It hadn’t started out as love, far from it. For Chris it had been an alternative form of release from the stress and tension of combat. Release through rapid physical gratification. Without the hassle of having to establish a relationship beforehand. He’d always done it. But then, he’d never been any good at relationships.</p><p>For Piers it had been a means of getting what he’d wanted. Rank, status. This way he could piggy-back on his captain’s fame and fortune. It was opportunistic. Not that he didn’t like Chris. Piers had always known he was gay himself, and the Captain was just his type. Dark, rugged, brooding. And willing. Great sex without complicated hang-ups. Chris was almost certainly bisexual, Piers had surmised. So Piers had decided to adjust the balance, and Chris hadn’t complained.</p><p>And then they’d gone and fallen in love.</p><p>It had ruined so many things about their relationship. Its convenience. Its simplicity. And perhaps most importantly, the fact that it didn’t need to be justified. It just was. Why ask yourself those awkward questions? Neither of them was good at self-analysis. It didn’t pay in their chosen line of work.</p><p>And yet, and yet … when they’d realized what had happened, it had made everything so much better. Like a burden lifted and troubles shared. And something more, companionship.</p><p>Able still didn’t know of the change in their status. Though Andy, perhaps, was the closest to guessing the truth. He’d been involved in enough casual relationships to recognize the real thing. At least from a safe distance. He wasn’t that good at relationships himself.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>11 pm found a satiated Piers cradling his equally satiated captain’s body in his arms. It still felt like the first time. The first of what had become many. But after the searing heat of the day, the night was surprisingly cold, and Piers shivered. The movement woke Chris instantly.</p><p>“You cold?”</p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p>“Then I should be holding you. C'mon, let’s swap positions.”</p><p>“That’s better. Thanks”</p><p>“You need to get some meat on you West Point.”</p><p>“I just did, about 220 lbs.”</p><p>“Aww, did I crush my little rose petal?”</p><p>“Rose petal! Where the fuck does that come from?”</p><p>“You got thorns!”</p><p>“Are you still high?”</p><p>“Might be. Hmm, I wonder if there’s time for a quick smoke before I take watch?”</p><p>“Chris! I wish you wouldn’t …”</p><p>“Old habits.”</p><p>“… well, there’s gonna’ be some new ones.”</p><p>“Don’t try and change me West Point.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Cos you might not like what you get.”</p><p>“I don’t like what I’ve already got!”</p><p>“Quit nagging bitch. I’ll go and check on the men, get some peace.”</p><p>“No, that’s my job. I’m your No.2. You get some proper sleep. Unassisted!” Piers grabbed the spliff and flicked it over the parapet.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“So bite me!”</p><p>“I already did.”</p><p>“I mean it Chris!”</p><p>“Ok, Ok! That was the last one.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Why, don’t you trust me?”</p><p>“No. Not all the time. Not when my back’s turned. It’s got to be earned. I respect you, but I don’t trust you.”</p><p>“Finn thinks I’m awesome.”</p><p>“Yes, so you said. He doesn’t know you like I do.”</p><p>“I thought you had my six West Point?”</p><p>“I do. It’s just that you’re too dumb to see it sometimes.”</p><p>“Ouch!”</p><p>“I’ve got feelings too Chris. It’s about time you realized that. C'mon, hand the rest over!”</p><p>“Jeez!” Chris fished in a back pocket and pulled out a small bag. “Here!”</p><p>Piers took it, but still kept his hand out. “And the rest.”</p><p>“There isn’t any more.” Chris lied.</p><p>“Your boots.”</p><p>“Wha … ? How’d you know?”</p><p>“They were the only things you kept on earlier.</p><p>"Goddamn you West Point!”</p><p>“He probably will. You, on the other hand, will thank me later.”</p><p>“You think we’re gonna’ have a later?”</p><p>“That’s my intention.”</p><p>“What about me? Do I get a say in any of this?”</p><p>“No. You’re reckless, thoughtless …”</p><p>“You mean stupid?”</p><p>“Your words. Now sleep. I’ll give you a shake when it’s your turn.”</p><p>Chris watched Piers go, then reached inside his pistol holster. He lit the smoke with his faithful Zippo. The mix of herb and tobacco glowed orange in the dark as he inhaled deeply.</p><p>“Stupid huh?”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Whilst the team had breakfast the next morning, Chris sat studying the partly submerged ship again. An idea began to form in his mind. He stood up abruptly and went inside.</p><p>“Sparks, get me Ops 2, secure line.”</p><p>Ben nodded. “Cap.” He passed the mic over.</p><p>“Jill? What the hell’s going on?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean …”</p><p>“Bullshit! G…U…L?” Chris spelt it out. “But not a word of Umbrella’s involvement in our briefing. No intel given on the ship by Command. You think we wouldn’t notice?”</p><p>“No, I was counting on it.”</p><p>“So what gives? Is it be nice to Green Umbrella week? I don’t trust those bastards and I never will, however much they say they’ve reformed. And all that environmental crap they spout is just that, crap! What’s going on Jill? The SOUs can’t operate in an intelligence vacuum. I won’t allow it.”</p><p>“Agent Granite has gone missing.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Listen, are you alone?”</p><p>“Hang on …” Chris waved everyone out of the room. “… I am now. Who’s Granite?”</p><p>“They … he, has infiltrated Green Umbrella. It’s a Black Op, strictly need to know. I, er, some of us, have concerns.”</p><p>“What concerns?”</p><p>“That Command may have been compromised by Green Umbrella.”</p><p>“Fuck! And this Granite? Do I know them?”</p><p>“It’s Carlos, Carlos Oliveira.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Friends and Enemies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jill Valentine finds a friend.  Piers Nivans makes an enemy.  And Chris Redfield?  He’s not sure which he’s found.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chris and Piers continue to spark off one another.  That’s the nature of their relationship in this AU.  Smoke and mirrors, secrets.</p>
<p>Barry Burton makes his first appearance in my writing.  About time, I hope I’ve caught his character, caring, optimistic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="post-content">
  <p></p>
  <div class="body-text">
    <p><b>Previously</b>:</p>
    <p>“So what gives? Is it be nice to Green Umbrella week? I don’t trust those bastards and I never will, however much they say they’ve reformed. And all that environmental crap they spout is just that, crap! What’s going on Jill? The SOUs can’t operate in an intelligence vacuum. I won’t allow it.”</p>
    <p>“Agent Granite has gone missing.”</p>
    <p>“Huh?”</p>
    <p>“Listen, are you alone?”</p>
    <p>“Hang on …” Chris waved everyone out of the room. “… I am now. Who’s Granite?”</p>
    <p>“They … he, has infiltrated Green Umbrella. It’s a Black Op, strictly need to know. I, er, some of us, have concerns.”</p>
    <p>“What concerns?”</p>
    <p>“That Command may have been compromised by Green Umbrella.”</p>
    <p>“Fuck! And this Granite? Do I know them?”</p>
    <p>“It’s Carlos, Carlos Oliveira.”</p>
    <p><b>Continuation</b>:</p>
    <p>“Carlos! You mean little Mop-Top?”</p>
    <p>“Chris! He’s not much younger than you. Besides, he doesn’t have all that hair anymore.”</p>
    <p>"So how am I gonna’ recognize him?”</p>
    <p>“Excuse me?”</p>
    <p>“Well I take it you want me to rescue him?”</p>
    <p>“He’s just missing, for now. I don’t know that he needs rescuing. But it would be nice to find him.”</p>
    <p>“There’s a difference?”</p>
    <p>“Please, he rescued me, remember?”</p>
    <p>“And for that he has my eternal gratitude. But you got to admit, he is a bit flaky. All that Che Guevara bollocks and freedom for the people shit.”</p>
    <p>“Ok, he was younger then, idealistic. We were all like that once. He’s matured.”</p>
    <p>“Alright, Supercop. Last known whereabouts?”</p>
    <p>“Cape Town, South Africa. Where that container ship was registered.”</p>
    <p>“When?”</p>
    <p>“2 weeks ago. Since then, nothing.”</p>
    <p>“What was he doing?”</p>
    <p>“Investigating Green Umbrella Lines.”</p>
    <p>“I see. Could he be involved in the incident here?”</p>
    <p>“I don’t know. He was the only agent we had in the field over there. Find him, and we find the answers. Will you do it Chris? For me? I can’t give you full SOA status. I’m not sure who to trust here. I would consider it a personal favor though.”</p>
    <p>“Off course I will Jill. Um, I’d like Piers Nivans with me.”</p>
    <p>“Oh?”</p>
    <p>“Yeah, he, er, he needs some in-the-field experience.”</p>
    <p>“Sort of a personal favor?”</p>
    <p>“Something like that. Deal?”</p>
    <p>“Deal.”</p>
    <p>“Ok. Nivans and I will start here. I have an idea. Listen, usual drill, comms schedule, etc. We’ll talk later. Oh, and Jill, look after the boys. Andy’s got a busted hand. Give ‘em some furlough when they’re back stateside. Ok?”</p>
    <p>“Roger that. The helicopter is due at your location in a couple of hours with Avery’s clean-up team. I’ll make sure there’s a some useful gear on board for the pair of you. Take care Chris, please? I don’t want to lose both the men in my life.”</p>
    <p>“Jill … Jill? Damn! She’s gone. Both? What the hell did she mean by that? Who did she mean? Where’s Piers got to?”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“West Point, um, you and Major Valentine, you, you never had a, er, a thing?</p>
    <p>"Excuse me?”</p>
    <p>“No, no, I didn’t think so. But she said both. Me and A N Other. Stupid of me to ask.”</p>
    <p>“Yes, very! So why did you?”</p>
    <p>“Cos’ if it’s not you, it’s someone else.”</p>
    <p>“Clearly! Who?”</p>
    <p>“Little Mop-Top.”</p>
    <p>“Who?”</p>
    <p>“Er, sit down Piers, we need to talk.”</p>
    <p>“What about?”</p>
    <p>“We’ve got a mission.”</p>
    <p>“Here?”</p>
    <p>“Well, to start with, then on to Cape Town perhaps. I don’t know yet, it’s all kinda’ fluid.”</p>
    <p>“Ok. What <em>do</em> you know? And <em>who</em> is 'Little Mop-Top?”</p>
    <p>“Let me start by telling you a story, back in my STARS days. Raccoon City, 1998. Jill Valentine and I had got separated. She was being stalked by Nemesis, one of Umbrella’s latest creations …”</p>
    <p>
      <b>***********************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“… and now you know as much as I do.”</p>
    <p>“Wow! That’s some story. Carlos sounds hot. What did you call him? Mop-Top?”</p>
    <p>“Yes. He has this weird black hair, thick, curly. Like a …”</p>
    <p>“Mop?”</p>
    <p>“Yeah.”</p>
    <p>“Did you ever meet him?”</p>
    <p>“Yes, briefly. On the west coast. He and Jill had gone there after the sterilization of the city. Shortly after that, he disappeared. Slipped over the border into Mexico at Tijuana, and then home probably. Wherever home was, he was always a bit vague with the details. I suspect she helped him. I didn’t think our paths would ever cross again. Jill was the one thing we had in common.”</p>
    <p>“Well, I’m not surprised He was a mercenary, a communist, working for Umbrella.”</p>
    <p>“He saved her life Piers. That’s what counted. Not his job, not his politics. Jill reminded me today. We were all young, idealistic. He’s changed apparently.”</p>
    <p>“And she want’s us to find him?”</p>
    <p>“Yes.”</p>
    <p>“Did you and he … ?”</p>
    <p>“What? No! Not my type.”</p>
    <p>“Ok. I’ll do it, but only for you. And the major owes me.”</p>
    <p>“Try and understand Piers. It’s not just for Jill, it’s for the BSAA too. If there’s a rotten apple at the top, we’ve gotta’ find him.”</p>
    <p>“Or her.”</p>
    <p>“Possibly. Just focus on the mission for now Piers, leave the internal politics to me.”</p>
    <p>“Well I say we start by giving that ship the once over. There might be some clues on board … Captain’s log, ship’s manifest, GPS records.”</p>
    <p>“That’s just what I thought. There’s bound to be some diving gear around here somewheres. But first, let’s get the rest of the team ready for their extraction.”</p>
    <p>“They won’t like it, us leaving them.”</p>
    <p>“I asked Jill to arrange them some leave. They’ll like it.”</p>
    <p>“Smart move.”</p>
    <p>“I’m not just a pretty face.”</p>
    <p>“Not even!”</p>
    <p>“You little shit!”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“How you doing Andy? Boys all ready?”</p>
    <p>“Not too bad Cap. We’re good to go. We, um, got your gear ready too. You two seemed to be busy earlier.”</p>
    <p>“Yeah, sorry about that. Ah, the thing is, West Point and me are not going back. We’ve got new orders.”</p>
    <p>“I knew it! That’s why you were hogging the radio this morning. Why didn’t you say?”</p>
    <p>“Because I had to bring West Point up to speed. He hasn’t done much field work.”</p>
    <p>“But …”</p>
    <p>“I know. I don’t like leaving you guys this way either. All I can say is it’s very important.”</p>
    <p>“And that’s it?”</p>
    <p>“You know the rules Andy. It’s on a need to know basis, and right now, you don’t. Look after them. If we don’t … well … you know.”</p>
    <p>“Who’s gonna be in charge of us?”</p>
    <p>“Take your orders from Major Valentine. Alright? No one else. I wanna’ see that hand mended when we get back. And don’t lead the rookie astray whilst we’re gone. If he’s a virgin now, I expect him to still be a virgin when we return. Comprende?”</p>
    <p>“You wound me Sir.”</p>
    <p>“Better me than another BOW. Take care old friend.”</p>
    <p>“You too Cap, and the El Tee.”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>The helicopter rose up on a cloud of orange dust, banked sharply to avoid the dockyard cranes, and sped away east.</p>
    <p>“Can I stop waving now?”</p>
    <p>“Piers!”</p>
    <p>“Well, they’re probably glad to see the back of me.”</p>
    <p>“You’d be wrong. Even Andy said for you to take care.”</p>
    <p>“He did?”</p>
    <p>“Yes. He is under sedation of course.”</p>
    <p>“Very funny! And you? Are you currently under sedation?”</p>
    <p>“Not now. Not whilst we’re in the field.”</p>
    <p>“Good! Ah, here’s comes the clean-up team. About time!”</p>
    <p>“Captain Redfield, Lieutenant Nivans.” the young, thin-faced 2nd Lieutenant saluted crisply.</p>
    <p>“Lieutenant Avery, good to see you.” Chris returned the salute. “I understand you have some gear for us?”</p>
    <p>“Yes, it’s with my men.”</p>
    <p>“Fine. I’ll go check it out. Piers, would you brief the Lieutenant on the situation here?”</p>
    <p>“Yes Chri … er, Captain. My pleasure.”</p>
    <p>Avery waited until the Captain was out of earshot. “Hmm, first name terms now. How cosy.” he smirked in the annoying way he had. Piers immediately took the bait.</p>
    <p>“Hey! You do your job and I’ll do mine. I’ll start by showing you the pile of bodies I’ve left for you. I’m good at my job. How 'bout you?”</p>
    <p>“You arrogant son of a bitch!”</p>
    <p>“We break 'em, you bake 'em. That’s the deal. Understand? Now, assemble your team for briefing.  <em>Chris </em>and I have better things to do!”</p>
    <p>Avery put his hands up. “Easy Nivans. What are you guys up to anyway? SOA stuff?”</p>
    <p>“I don’t know. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You know the rules.”</p>
    <p>“Have it your way. Pardon me for asking. Sergeant, get the guys over here. At the double. Lieutenant Nivans here has a secret date …”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“I could have dropped him! Right there and then! So help me, I should have!”</p>
    <p>“Calm down West Point. What is it with you? Either you show no interest in people, or you rub them up the wrong way. Avery was just casting flies, and you took them, hook and all. He does it to everyone.”</p>
    <p>“Except you! He knows something Chris.”</p>
    <p>“He knows nothing! Now drop it, Ok? We’ve got enough on our hands.”</p>
    <p>“Alright, alright! Well, I’ve scouted out some scuba gear. The air tanks and valves check Ok. Finding decent suits took a while.”</p>
    <p>“Good, let’s get cracking then. No time like the present.”</p>
    <p>“You gonna’ search the cargo?”</p>
    <p>“I’m not planning to. I thought we’d check out the Captain’s cabin first. That’s the most likely place for the information we want. If not, we’ll take it from there.”</p>
    <p>“Do you know where it is?”</p>
    <p>“It won’t be far from the bridge, probably on the same deck. Captains like to be on hand, in case of an emergency.”</p>
    <p>“Like with me and Avery?”</p>
    <p>“Apology accepted.”</p>
    <p>“I wasn’t apologizing.”</p>
    <p>“Just go and get changed.”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“I’m ready!”</p>
    <p>“Christ Piers! Couldn’t you get one any tighter? This isn’t a goddam fashion parade! Where’s the rest of it?”</p>
    <p>“You’re not the only one with muscles. I thought you’d like it.”</p>
    <p>“I keep telling you kid, your dick is not a muscle!”</p>
    <p>“Then how come it brings you to your knees?”</p>
    <p>Chris shook his head in resignation. “And you wonder why Avery doesn’t like you. At least zip your suit up. That’s Atlantic water out there, it’s colder than it looks. Hmm, better. Now, if you’ve finished preening, let’s go!”</p>
    <p>That cold water should have been clear, but now a film of thick fuel oil floated on it’s surface, cutting down the light below. Fortunately, the bridge area was only about fifteen feet under. They slipped into the water some distance from the oil spill, swimming below it, so as to avoid it coating their face masks and clogging their air valves. Piers could see the enthusiasm in Chris’ eyes and body language. He was mission focussed, no need for stimulants now. Piers sighed. If only he would stay that way.</p>
    <p>They had only found one underwater torch, and so Chris used it sparingly. Relying on his innate sense of direction to get to the bridge. They entered a side door, leading to a gangway behind the bridge itself. Chris turned the torch on, and quickly gestured to a door on the left. The light picked out a brass nameplate. “Capitaine”. Inside, the dim light from above shone through a single porthole. The desk and chair had slid back when the ship had sunk, and now lay against a small cot. Chris slowly moved the torch around the room. Some photos on the wall, mostly of ships, an antique barometer. A shelf, the former contents of which now floated in the water around them. And there, in the corner of the cabin, built into the wall, a safe. And affixed to the safe, a standard military issue C4 charge and timer. The red countdown lights blinked, 10, 9 …“</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>Jill Valentine rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was always the same when there was an operation in progress, she would remain at her command console until it was successfully concluded, including the clean-up. Relying on cat naps and snatches of half-sleep in the quiet hours.</p>
    <p>Chris had taught her the trick, during their STARS days. A trick he had learnt in turn from his time in the US Air Force. He’d never spoken much about those days, like he never spoke much about his childhood. It was like he’d only had half a life, and it had made her sad, like him. There were rumors circulating that he’d found relief in recreational drugs. She wasn’t sure if she believed them. She didn’t want to find out. His operational record remained exemplary. That was the important thing. There were other rumors too, of an even more personal nature. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more there seemed to be a covert campaign to discredit the NAB’s most decorated Captain. It had made her suspicious of Command’s true loyalties. And so, with other like-minded officers, she had begun a search for the enemy within, turning to that other man in her life. The former mercenary, turned savior, Carlos Oliveira.</p>
    <p>"Major Valentine. What is Able’s current status?” It was Command 3. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him come in. Damn!</p>
    <p>“Currently airborne on extraction Sir. They are due to land at Mariffa airport in 10 minutes, before transfer to their home flight via the Azores, for refueling. They should be here in twenty four hours barring any further delays.”</p>
    <p>“Delays?”</p>
    <p>“Sandstorms. We’ve already had problems with the helicopter. We really need sand filters fitted to operate in those conditions.”</p>
    <p>“We must learn to make do with what we have Major. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know.” he said patronizingly.</p>
    <p>“No Sir, of course not.”</p>
    <p>“I’d like to see Redfield when he returns.”</p>
    <p>Jill thought quickly. “One of his men is injured Colonel. You know him, seeing to his recovery will be his first priority.”</p>
    <p>“How tiresome! Oh well, as soon as possible then Major. I leave it in your more than capable hands.”</p>
    <p>“Yes Sir.” Command 3 left the ops room. “Shit, shit, shit!” Jill cursed. Somehow, she had to buy Chris and Piers some time, but how?“</p>
    <p>A short while later she was interrupted again as a friendly, bearded, face peered around the door.</p>
    <p>"Excuse me, can you help? I can’t get into my damn safe. Someone told me there was a master lock-picker around here.”</p>
    <p>“Barry! Oh, Barry!” Jill jumped up and threw her arms around him.</p>
    <p>“Hey, steady on there Jill, people will think we have a thing.”</p>
    <p>“We do have a thing!”</p>
    <p>“We do? You going for the more mature type now? About time.”</p>
    <p>“Heh, heh. If ever I needed a friend, it’s you, right now.”</p>
    <p>“Oh dear, from thing to friend in 5 seconds. Was it something I said?”</p>
    <p>“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”</p>
    <p>“Here and there. Mostly there.”</p>
    <p>“Do you ever stop joking?”</p>
    <p>“If you don’t laugh, you’ll end up crying in this place. I smell something nasty in the air.”</p>
    <p>“We need a serious talk. I’m due a meal break soon.”</p>
    <p>“At this time of night?”</p>
    <p>“I eat when I can during operations.”</p>
    <p>“Chow hall?”</p>
    <p>“No, not on base. There’s a 24 hour diner just outside of town. It will be more private.”</p>
    <p>“Oh, that serious?”</p>
    <p>“Yes.”</p>
    <p>“Consider it done. Oh, and about my safe. I really am locked out.”</p>
    <p>“What am I going to do with you?”</p>
    <p>“Get it open for me, and I’ll buy you dinner.”</p>
    <p>“You don’t need to do that.”</p>
    <p>“I do. My wallet is inside. You can’t trust people around here.”</p>
    <p>“That’s partly what I want to talk to you about.”</p>
    <p>“Now why did I guess that?”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>They left separately and met in the little off-freeway diner to the north of town. Not Jill’s usual place, more Barry’s, unless he was treating Moira. But at that time of night Jill didn’t have much choice. She had arrived first. And whilst she found a secluded spot for them to sit and talk, Barry conducted a practiced scan of the area, making sure they hadn’t been followed. Then he joined her at the table. She was obviously seriously troubled. Once he had sat down, the words tumbled out of her. Only pausing whilst they were being served.</p>
    <p>“Hey, slow down!”</p>
    <p>“I can’t. I have to be back at my desk soon.”</p>
    <p>“Say’s who?”</p>
    <p>“Say’s me!”</p>
    <p>“Ah! Better do what you say then. Listen, just give me a summary for now, and your priorities. Then we’ll meet up tomorrow.”</p>
    <p>“Able’s not back yet. If I leave my desk before they arrive , people might get suspicious. It’s going to be bad enough explaining Chris and Piers’ absence. Command 3 want’s to see Chris ASAP on his return. I’ve no idea how to stall him.”</p>
    <p>“Hmm, I got it! You tell him they’ve gone rogue.”</p>
    <p>“What! I can’t do that!”</p>
    <p>“Yes you can. Look, if the knives are out for Chris already, it won’t surprise Command if he does something reckless.”</p>
    <p>“You mean acts like a Redfield?”</p>
    <p>“Precisely, that’s my kids for you. I tried my best. Ha, ha.”</p>
    <p>“You were always the father they lost.”</p>
    <p>“Thanks Jill. Those two deserved so much more. But enough about the past, let’s concentrate on the matter in hand. Do you think Command would go after the pair of them?”</p>
    <p>“They might do. But the budget seems tight at the moment, Command might just go through the motions, or call in the West African branch. Sheva Alomar, of course! I could talk to her! She’s always been on Chris’ team.”</p>
    <p>“No, I think it would be better if you let me do it. On your behalf. Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but let me run with this operation of yours. That way you keep your nose clean with Command, and get to stay on the inside. They won’t bother with me. I’m just some old man whose best time has long past.”</p>
    <p>“Barry!”</p>
    <p>“I’ve got the receding hairline to prove it, and the, er, paunch.”</p>
    <p>“Oh you! Alright. We’ve got less than a day before Able return and I have to act surprised …”</p>
    <p>“And angry!”</p>
    <p>“… that I can do!”</p>
    <p>“And then we’ll meet up tomorrow evening?”</p>
    <p>“Yes, hopefully somewhere nicer than this. I need real fish, not something gray in breadcrumbs.” Jill pushed her fork into the unidentified flesh on the plate in front of her. “In the meantime I’ll try and put Chris in the picture.”</p>
    <p>“That’s my girl. Oh, can I still call you that?”</p>
    <p>“Of course. But not in front of Carlos. He still gets very jealous.”</p>
    <p>“How’s that going by the way?”</p>
    <p>“Don’t even ask!”</p>
    <p>“Understood. Now eat! Whatever it is. You’ve got to keep your strength up.”</p>
    <p>“Yes, Dad.”</p>
    <p>
      <b>************************</b>
    </p>
    <p>“Fuck! What are they doing?”</p>
    <p>From his safe vantage point, the lone scuba-diver in his blue and green camouflaged wet suit watched open mouthed in horror as he observed two other swimmers heading towards the sunken ship. He was too far away to shout a warning, and besides, the BSAA clean-up team were not far away either. Chris and Piers’ activity had caught their attention too. He didn’t want to risk being detected. He checked the time on his Rolex Submariner. Just a few minutes. “Crap!“ He ducked his head under the water and set out after them. Was the BSAA full of idiots these days! And why did he always end up involved?</p>
    <p>He was only half-way to the ship when the C4 went off. Shit! He was too late. Just a muffled boom at this distance. The ship’s structure would have absorbed most of the force. But God help anyone in that cabin. The water inside would have magnified the pressure wave ten-fold, breaking bones, rupturing internal organs. It would be messy.</p>
    <p>He swam more slowly now, approaching the captain’s cabin with caution. The door had been blown off it’s hinges, and lay shattered in the gangway, whilst the cabin’s steel bulkhead had buckled outwards with the force of the blast. Warily, he peered inside. He could just make out the safe, it’s thick door now hanging open. Bits of broken furniture and flotsam had made the water cloudy. He couldn’t quite make out the safe’s contents.</p>
    <p>As he edged forward, a large hand wrapped around his throat, whilst a second tore away his mouth piece. He lost most of his air in that first silent scream; and his face mask filled with murky water, blurring his vision. The hand around his windpipe tightened relentlessly, choking him. Chris pulled the diver around, and slammed the rigid fingers of his free hand deep into the man’s solar plexus. Involuntarily, the man opened his mouth as he doubled up in pain, releasing yet another stream of precious air. Whatever remaining air the man had been trying to conserve was now gone. Chris held him in this position, ignoring his flailing hands until the last few bubbles floated out from between the scuba diver’s lips.</p>
    <p>Quickly starved of oxygen, his stinging eyes bulging, and his skin turning blue, the diver had no option now but to accompany his captor to the surface, or die. He stopped struggling. Whoever his assailant was, he forcefully propelled him to the far side of the bridge. Away from the dockside, where even now, curious members of the clean-up team were gathering, attracted by the sound of the explosion.</p>
    <p>Just in time, Piers bobbed up in front of them and waved his hand.</p>
    <p>"It’s all right. Everything’s under control.”</p>
    <p>“Are you Ok Lieutenant? What happened?”</p>
    <p>“Just an explosion, er, a practice demolition.”</p>
    <p>“You could have warned us!” it was Avery.</p>
    <p>“Last minute decision.”</p>
    <p>“Where’s Captain Redfield?”</p>
    <p>“He’s, er, checking on the results. Get back to your work.”</p>
    <p>“Fucking action men!” Avery muttered under his breath. Then louder, so Piers could clearly hear. “Ok, boys, back to work, nothing to see here but a couple of gung-ho dumb asses at play.”</p>
    <p>Piers bit his lip. But there were more pressing matters right now than his feud with Avery. Like where was Chris? And who had set that charge? Suddenly, field work with his Captain looked like it might be fun. He put his mouthpiece back in, and slipped below the surface. He heard a dull, metallic noise, seemingly coming from the other side of bridge, and quickly swam around to investigate.</p>
    <p>Chris was standing in about two foot of water on the partially submerged funnel deck situated above and aft of the bridge.</p>
    <p>SLAM! He rammed the diver hard into the funnel once more. The man’s compressed air tank clanging against the steel trunking beneath green lettering and the Umbrella logo.</p>
    <p>“I won’t ask so nicely next time. Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?”</p>
    <p>“Madre de Dios! Let me catch my breath, you big ugly badass babuino!”</p>
    <p>SLAM! “What did you just call me?”</p>
    <p>“B,babuino … it means baboon!”</p>
    <p>SLAM! “No, the other word!”</p>
    <p>“Big, er, ugly, badass! Si, badass is what I called you! You wait! When you let go, I will kill you Badass! Kill you dead!”</p>
    <p>“In that case, I won’t let go.” SLAM! “So let’s try again. Who are you?”</p>
  </div>
</div><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cause and Effect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The secrets continue to stack up in this chapter. Will Chris’ past catch up with him? Will Piers’ present be his downfall? It’s all about Cause and Effect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Carlos has proved to be a fun character to write.  Here, because of his ‘life' experiences, I want him to be quite worldly wise, always ready to give advice.  He’s also very promiscuous.  It’s just the way he is, it’s not malevolent.  For Carlos life, and everything that includes, should be fun.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>Previously</b>:</p><p>Chris slammed the diver into the side of the funnel once again, his compressed air tank clanging against the green and white Umbrella logo. “I won’t ask so nicely next time. Who the hell are you?”</p><p>“¡Madre de Dios! Let me catch my breaths, you big ugly badass babuino!”</p><p>SLAM! “What did you just call me?”</p><p>“B,babuino … is baboon in your language!”</p><p>SLAM! “No, the other word!”</p><p>“Big, er, ugly, badass! Yes, badass is what I call you! You wait! When you let go, I will kill you Señor Badass! Kill you dead!”</p><p>“In that case …” SLAM! “… I won’t let go.”</p><p>Chris spat the words out, grinning wickedly.</p><p><b>Continuation</b>:</p><p>Chris was just about to slam the man again when an arm reached around from behind and stopped him.</p><p>“Now who’s being abrasive?” Piers said, with more than a hint of irony.</p><p>“He’s not co-operating!” answered Chris in exasperation.</p><p>“Well how about we get a look at him whilst there’s some of him left? Did you think to take his hood and mask off?”</p><p>“He was squirming, I didn’t have enough hands. Where were you?”</p><p>“Emptying the safe. Oh, and preventing the cavalry riding to our rescue. Avery and his men heard the explosion. They wanted to get involved until I stopped them. Plus covering you whilst you make dents in the funnel.”</p><p>“And me!” gasped the diver.</p><p>“Hmm, thanks.” Chris said grudgingly. “Ok, you take his mask and hood off whilst I hold him.”</p><p>“You do it. He’s not going anywhere.”</p><p>“You sound very sure.”</p><p>“I’ve got him covered with my 9mm.”</p><p>“Oh! I didn’t know you were carrying. Where did you get that from?”</p><p>“What did you think it was shoved down the front of my wetsuit? Oh yes, my dick!”</p><p>“Ok! Ok! Alright mystery man, no tricks. Let’s have a better look at you.” Chris removed the man’s mask and pulled off his neoprene hood, then did a double take.</p><p>“Mop-Top?”</p><p>“Badass? Is it you? How you have grown! I almost killed you!”</p><p>“Yeah, right!” Chris laughed. “And you, I barely recognize you. Jill said all the hair had gone.”</p><p>“My Supercop? How is she?”</p><p>“Worried sick, about you. Though I don’t know why. You don’t look like you’re in trouble to me. She asked me and Piers here to find you.”</p><p>“Just as well I didn’t kill you then. I was just about to.”</p><p>“Ha, ha! You scrawny little son of a bitch! It’s good to see you. It’s been what, ten years?”</p><p>“Twelve. Are you a Major now, like Jill?”</p><p>“No, just a Captain. It suits me fine. Keeps me on the frontline, and out of some dammed office!”</p><p>“I was a Corporal in Umbrella, now I am Agente Granito, in the BSAA! Some crazy shit, huh? So, where is my foxy lady? She is here?”</p><p>“Fraid not Mop-Top, Jill’s back in the States. Worried, about you, worried about Green Umbrella, worried about the BSAA.”</p><p>“Ay! I always tell her to relax. Chica, no estresse, por favor, I say. But only I, Carlos Oliveira, can melt the foxy lady’s frozen heart.”</p><p>“Remarkable!”</p><p>“Si, I am! And who is this cute chico again? Peers?”</p><p>“It’s Piers, Piers Nivans. I’m Chris’ partner.”</p><p>“He means he’s my No.2.” Chris said, blushing.</p><p>“Claro!” Carlos winked knowingly. “Your foxy boy, eh?”</p><p>“What! Let me shoot him Chris, please? We can say he tried to escape.”</p><p>“Not until he’s told us what he’s found out about GUL and Command. Then we’ll see.”</p><p>“Hey, Badass, mi amigo, is he loco too? Peers?”</p><p>“He gets grumpy sometimes. Ask anyone.”</p><p>“Excuse me!”</p><p>“Ah, you two chicos. I see which way the wind is blowing, jajaja! I always knew, you know.”</p><p>Chris leaned forward. “Not now, Carlos.” he whispered, squeezing the man’s arm tightly to make his point. Chris straightened up. “Um, so, what have you found out, Agent Granite?”</p><p>Carlos rubbed his arm ruefully. “I have a hideout, here in the port. We can go there, then I can get out of these wet things and we can talk. But first, the ship’s safe, we must check it.”</p><p>“No need, it’s all in here.” Piers raised his right hand. In it he was holding a waterproof oilskin bag. “I removed the contents after you’d been captured.”</p><p>“I was not captured! I was helping!”</p><p>“By nearly killing us?”</p><p>“You interfered!”</p><p>“We interfered! We could do without your kind of help!” Piers flushed with anger.</p><p>“You two, behave! We’re meant to be on the same side.”</p><p>“Whatever!”</p><p>“Dios!”</p><p>“Good! That’s settled then.” Chris put an arm around Carlos’ shoulders. “Ok Mop Top, you lead the way.”</p><p>Carlos sighed. “Please don’t call me that. Jill said all my beautiful hair was a distraction. So I am no longer the mop top. And you Captain? Are you still the badass?”</p><p>Piers began to laugh until Chris glared at him. “Oh yeah, badder!”</p><p>“And assier!” Piers sniggered.</p><p>“Shut up West Point!”</p><p>It was Carlos’ turn to stifle a laugh. Edgy Badass, uptight gay boy. But was it the perfect match? He smiled to himself. It was going to be fun finding out.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Carlos’ hideout was in an old motor yacht berthed at the end of a wooden jetty. On the other side of it, a similar vessel lay smoldering, burnt down to the water line.</p><p>“What happened here Carlos?”</p><p>“Ah, two days ago, the undead, they sniff me out. They were working through the boats moored on the jetty, one by one. So that one I rig. And when they were all on board, BOOM! No more undead! Jajaja! The next day, you arrived with your men, so I collected the rest of my equipment under the cover of darkness and kept my head down till all the shooting stopped.”</p><p>“Thanks for your help!” Chris said sarcastically.</p><p>“Hey, I did my share! There must have been fifty of them, possibly a hundred! Besides, Supercop told me I was to stay undercover, whatever happened.”</p><p>“Hmm, perhaps.” Chris sounded doubtful.</p><p>Piers, however, seemed more impressed. Perhaps there was more to this annoying, yet strangely exciting, man than met the eye. And what met the eye was very pleasant indeed. Piers judged him to be only a few years younger than Chris. But whilst Chris had bulked up over the years, this guy’s body still looked lean and tight under his wetsuit.</p><p>Piers gestured to the burnt out yacht. “It must have been a close call.” he said, admiringly.</p><p>“Nah, is what I do. I live life on the edge. Everything I do is exciting, just like me, Peers.”</p><p>“And so modest too.” Piers couldn’t help the sarcasm, but Carlos seemed unfazed.</p><p>“No, I truly am wonderful, ask anyone.”</p><p>Chris burst out laughing. “You’ve met your match Piers. Better give in gracefully.”</p><p>“I never give in!” the hazel eyes flashed in anger.</p><p>“Jajaja, Peers, you are a man after my heart.”</p><p>It’s <em>own</em> heart, after my <em>own</em> heart.“</p><p>"I think I know what I mean Chico.” Before Piers had a chance to fire back a reply, Carlos slowly, and provocatively, unzipped his wetsuit down to his navel, revealing his well defined physique. What Piers noticed most was the man’s body hair. It made Chris’ body look as smooth as a baby’s. The dark hair lay matted and curled against the broad chest and flat abdominals. The olive skin below glistened, still wet after his recent swim. Piers’ eyes widened perceptibly and his full lips parted.</p><p>Carlos Oliveira was flirting with him quite openly. As he began to peel the lower half of his suit off, it became obvious that he was wearing nothing underneath. Piers licked his lips, and Carlos grinned.</p><p>“Hey, Peers! Give me a hand will you? Help me pull these legs off. Everything is soo tight …” Piers stood mesmerized. “… Peers?”</p><p>“Pull yourself off Carlos!” Chris said angrily. It wasn’t grammatically correct, but he knew what he meant. He turned abruptly to his No.2. “Let’s see what’s in that bag West Point!” Chris sat down at a small table in the cabin. Reluctantly, Piers followed him.</p><p>“What the hell do you think you’re doing Piers?” hissed Chris. “He’s playing with you. He does it to everybody, trust me. Now get a fucking grip! This is field work, not some gay pick-up bar!”</p><p>“S,sorry. I was distracted.”</p><p>“Yeah, it showed, and it wasn’t just your 9mm this time!”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘he does it to everybody’? I thought you hardly knew him?”</p><p>“Later!”</p><p>“Chris?”</p><p>“Not here, not now, Ok? This is work. Stay mission focussed Piers, that’s an order!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>They were all sat around a small table in the yacht’s tiny salon. “So, what do we have?” asked Chris.</p><p>“Green Umbrella are up to no good!”</p><p>Chris brought his fists down on the table. “I knew it! What exactly?”</p><p>“For a start, that container ship. They are bringing toxic waste from their chemical plants in Johannesburg and dumping it here, in contravention of UN agreements. They disguise it by moving it in commercial containers. It looks like normal freight.”</p><p>“That figures, Bastards!”</p><p>“But there is more. I stowed away on that ship when she left Cape Town. Three nights ago she stopped en-route and took on more cargo.”</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I couldn’t risk leaving my secret place, what do you say? Cave?”</p><p>“No Bears have caves …” Piers looked accusingly at Chris. “… and secrets. You mean hideaway.”</p><p>“Si, eso es. That’s why I blew the safe, to try and find the answer.”</p><p>“Well, let’s see then.” Piers emptied the contents of the bag onto the table, and Chris unrolled and spread out a large blue and yellow colored marine navigation chart.</p><p>“A day from here you say?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So, that ship would make what, say what, 12, 15 knots an hour? 24 hours, that’s …”</p><p>“Around 350 to 400 miles.” answered Piers immediately.</p><p>“Hmm, did you sail across the open ocean, or along the coast do you know?”</p><p>“Yes, the coast. Whenever I look out, I could see the coast, on my right.”</p><p>“So, we’re here, Nouadhibou.” Chris pointed, then spread his fingers over the chart’s scale, and walked them south along the coast. “Either Saint-Louis, or Dakar would fit the bill. Do they ring any bells?”</p><p>“No. But whatever they loaded, from wherever it was, was the first load off. And then they dropped it.”</p><p>“Dropped it!”</p><p>“Yes, from the crane. That’s what started the outbreak. The men below on the dock were the first to be infected, almost immediately.”</p><p>“Wait! You’re saying contamination wasn’t through infected water or biting?”</p><p>“No. The container split open when it hit the ground. There was a cloud of dust. Then they became infected.”</p><p>“Dust?”</p><p>“Or mist, like a fog. I didn’t get a good view.”</p><p>Piers looked at Chris. “That doesn’t sound like normal t-virus.”</p><p>“No, it could be something new. What did you do next?”</p><p>“I put my scuba gear on, so I didn’t breath anything in, then I gathered what I could and slipped over the side.”</p><p>“You were lucky!” Piers sounded relieved.</p><p>“The Holy Mother, she looked after me.” Carlos crossed himself.</p><p>“Last time we met, you were a communist.” Chris scowled.</p><p>“I was. But afterwards I gave up politics. I realized they’re all the same in the end, all those politicos.”</p><p>“Like you gave up Umbrella?”</p><p>“Hey, I am not on trial! I am on your side, Chris.”</p><p>“You almost killed us!”</p><p>“I didn’t know you were there, snooping about.”</p><p>“Major Valentine asked us to. Chris was worried about you, though I don’t know why! You do seem to have a knack for self-preservation.”</p><p>“Intriguing. You find me interesting Chico, but you still don’t trust me.”</p><p>“It has to be earned. I still don’t trust Chris on somethings.”</p><p>“Joder! You are one crazy mixed-up kid!”</p><p>“You think I’m crazy … !”</p><p>“That’s enough you two! Now, apart from illegal dumping, it looks like Green Umbrella have a covert site somewhere not far from one of those ports. And it’s not just chemical waste they’re dumping. It’s biological material as well. If we find it, we can expose it and bring them down.”</p><p>“Just like that?”</p><p>“This is field work Piers, no time to dot the I’s and cross the T’s.”</p><p>“Si, your Captain is right. In the field, you go with your heart, not your head. Action is the thing, not talking. Isn’t that right Chris?”</p><p>“Up to a point. It’s always a fine balance.”</p><p>“So how are we going to get there? Without dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s?”</p><p>“We could take a boat? I am a good engineer, the best. On the streets of my shanty town, I learnt to fix everyone’s bikes and cars. Later, in Raccoon City, I fixed trains too. Ships are just the same. I could get this one going, just like that!” Carlos snapped his fingers.</p><p>“No, a boat’s too slow Mop Top. Umbrella will be going deep and silent after this incident. We need to act fast.”</p><p>“Then we need a plane, or a helicopter. Why not use your clean-up team’s?”</p><p>“No, they’ve got a vital job to do. They need it. Their needs are greater than ours.”</p><p>“Then where from? Shall we go and steal one?”</p><p>“No, let me think … Got it! Sheva, Sheva Alomar.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, I have heard of her. West African Branch. She is a very foxy lady, no?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say that to her face.”</p><p>“Jajaja! When she sets eyes on me, she will be putty in my hands.” Carlos grinned, showing a set of strong white teeth, whilst fluttering his long eyelashes. Piers was momentarily mesmerized.</p><p>Chris turned to his partner. “Now, Piers … Piers? Piers! Dammit West Point, pay attention! I need our radio, and I need to tell Avery about this new virus, or whatever it is. Then I’ll collect our gear and bring it back here. Do something useful the pair of you whilst I’m gone. Piers, you go through the rest of that stuff from the safe. Carlos, anything you’ve dug up on Green Umbrella that could help, tell Piers. Do you both understand?”</p><p>Piers nodded, red faced. “Yes, Chris.”</p><p>Carlos grinned and saluted. “Si, Capitán Badass.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>After Chris had left, Carlos went back into his cabin. A few minuted later he called out to Piers. “Hey! Peers! Can you help me please?”</p><p>“What do you want?”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>“What!”</p><p>“You want me too. I saw that hungry look in those beautiful eyes of yours.”</p><p>“I, I …”</p><p>“See? You can’t deny it.”</p><p>“You’re interesting, that’s all. I haven’t met anyone quite like you before.”</p><p>“Ah, there is only one Carlos Ignacio Oliveira Moreno.”</p><p>“That’s a mouthful!”</p><p>“Yes, I am, as you clearly saw earlier. You want to try?” Carlos was naked now. He took Piers’ hand and placed it over his crotch.</p><p>“No, yes … Oh, I don’t know! I don’t want to hurt Chris. I,I love him.”</p><p>“He doesn’t have to know. It can be our secret. I’m sure he has secrets too, yes?”</p><p>“Y,yes. He probably does. He’s been around. I’m trying to change him, make him a better person. He smokes, he drinks, he …”</p><p>“Fucks? He’s a man Piers, what do you expect? You don’t change men like Chris Redfield, Chico. They change you. I imagine he’s been good for your career?”</p><p>“Yes, that’s how things started.”</p><p>“So why change him?”</p><p>“Because he could be so much more.”</p><p>“Perhaps a change of scene will make you appreciate him more. You like what you see?”</p><p>Carlos lay back on the bed. He reached over to a side table and took a couple of hand-rolled cigarettes from a small pile he’d made earlier. He lit one and offered the other to Piers. “Smoke?”</p><p>“No! It’s bad enough Chris has a taste for those filthy things.”</p><p>“Oh, so he still smokes them?”</p><p>“Was it you that got him on them, twelve years ago?”</p><p>“Possibly. Chris was hurting back then, hurting bad after Raccoon. Nightmares, not sleeping. Not living life, but living death. All of us were, STARS and mercenaries. These days we’d have counseling. Back then we had cannabis. I like to think I helped him. Looking at him now, I’m think I succeeded. What have you done for him?”</p><p>“I love him.”</p><p>“Yes, so you said. Just after saying you found me interesting.”</p><p>“I mean proper love.”</p><p>“Really? Then show him, you stupid idiot! In everything you do, every word, every gesture, every action …”</p><p>“Meanwhile you just screw your way through life. Here today, gone tomorrow. Do you love anyone except yourself!”</p><p>“Go look in the mirror Chico! People like me and Chris, we’re too old to change. Or too scared. You, however, still have time on your side. It’s not too late. Use your youth wisely, while it lasts.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Don’t just live life for today. Live it well. Make it count. Bring something to his life and you will enrich yours.”</p><p>“Carlos Oliveira the philosopher now.”</p><p>Carlos inhaled deeply. “What can I say? It’s a gift”.</p><p>Piers shook his head. “I can’t do this. Not here, not now. You, me.”</p><p>“Relax Chico. Come, lie down beside me. Have a smoke. Enjoy my company. Chris did, very much.”</p><p>“What! You’re lying! He told me you … he … that you didn’t.”</p><p>“It was a long time ago Chico, perhaps he forgot. Though I don’t know how. Sex with Carlos is not something you normally forget.”</p><p>“Fuck you!”</p><p>“That is the general idea. Then I can fuck you back. We can take it in turns.”</p><p>“Never!”</p><p>“Pity! But still, perhaps you have learnt a lesson.”</p><p>“Me? You have the nerve to say I need to learn a lesson! What about you? You, you’ve no ethics, no, no scruples …” Piers spluttered. “… I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so lacking in morals as you.”</p><p>“Ah, so it’s Ok for you to break all the rules of polite society. Your street-smart attitude, your gayness, in the military. Yet you expect everyone else to follow them exactly. That’s crazy in my book. Chris, he’s a good guy. Oh, he acts macho, he would make a good Latino, on the outside. But inside … Ah, inside he is a quiet, peaceful man. He doesn’t deserve crazy. He deserves to be treated better. Don’t you want that for him?”</p><p>“Of course I do.”</p><p>Then give it to him. Stop being so badass yourself. Stop trying to outdo him. Supercop taught me that. Be a lover, not a fighter. I wrote that you know? That singer, Michael someone, he stole it from me. jajaja!“</p><p>"Are you ever serious?”</p><p>“Oh yes, you can always tell.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“When I laugh I am being serious.”</p><p>“But you’re not laughing.”</p><p>“See! Jajaja! Your Captain was right. When you’re working in the field, you have to concentrate, be alert, be serious. But when you’re not working, you have to play, with all your heart and soul, with passion. You understand me? Who knows? It may be your last chance. So I say live every moment. Take every opportunity. Right now, you, Piers, are an opportunity. If not now, I will take you later. Jajaja!”</p><p>Piers sought to fight his fascination, and equally, his revulsion, by changing the subject. “Are you and the Major a couple?”</p><p>“We have an arrangement.”</p><p>“But you just tried to seduce me!”</p><p>“She doesn’t ask and I don’t tell. It seems to work.”</p><p>“Most women I know want honesty, stability.”</p><p>“Do you know many women Piers Nivans?”</p><p>Piers hung his head. “No.”</p><p>“I thought not. Take my advice, stick to what you do know Chico. Now, are you quite sure you won’t change your mind?” Carlos swung his legs over the side of the bed.</p><p>Piers dropped to his knees. “You won’t tell Chris about this? Promise me.”</p><p>“If he doesn’t ask, I won’t tell. Jajaja!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>
  <b>1998 (12 years earlier):</b>
</p><p>Chris Redfield lay face down on the crumpled bedsheets. His clothes lay scattered over the floor of Carlos Oliveira’s motel room. The mercenary ran an appreciative hand over Chris’ pale buttocks.</p><p>“Badass. Si. Badass is what I shall call you.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Ah, my prince awakes. Hello my friend.”</p><p>“Gah, my head! Have we been drinking?”</p><p>“No, we have been making love. All night.”</p><p>“All night! What time is it now ?”</p><p>“6 am. You fell asleep, how do you say? On the job? Jajaja!”</p><p>“It was those dammed cigarettes! You made me do it!”</p><p>“No, you wanted it.  <em>You</em> came to <em>my</em> room, last night. Remember?”</p><p>“I was curious. I thought you and Jill were an item, you know, but you hit on me as well.”</p><p>“I have that effect on people. What can I say, I am irresistible.”</p><p>“Yes … Christ, what am I saying! Jill will kill me if she ever finds out. You too!”</p><p>“Then let us agree not to tell her. And later today, I will give her my full attention. She is still in shock. Oh she acts tough, my Supercop. But inside … She needs someone to love her Chris. That is my job for now, and perhaps, one day, in the future too.”</p><p>“And I thank you for it.”</p><p>“You, however, will have to make do with your memories.”</p><p>“Just like that? A one night stand?”</p><p>“What more do you want? Do you love me?”</p><p>“No, not in that sense.”</p><p>“Will we two ever met again?”</p><p>“Probably not.”</p><p>“Well then, just enjoy it for what it was. Live for the now Christopher Redfield. Let tomorrow go fuck itself!”</p><p>“You’re crazy.”</p><p>“Maybe, but I’m happy. You should try it, learn to relax, smoke a little, drink a little, fuck a lot.”</p><p>“You think?”</p><p>“I know. And another thing. Look after Jill for me, when I’ve gone. Do you promise?”</p><p>“Of course I will. She’s my partner too.” Chris realized that rescuing Jill was probably the most selfless thing Carlos Oliveira had ever done.</p><p>“Thank you, my friend. Now, what is that awful smell?” Carlos sniffed his armpit. “Ay, I need a shower!”</p><p>Chris scented the air. “Me too!”</p><p>“Come on then Badass. You know what they say?”</p><p>“No, what?”</p><p>“Save water, shower with a friend. Jajaja!”</p><p>“Um, Carlos, that shit you smoke … Could I have some? Last night was the first time I’ve slept without having nightmares since Raccoon City. I was begging to think they would never end.”</p><p>“Ay, my poor Chico! Yes, you can have it all. I will give you my stash before I cross the border. I think it would be better for me to travel clean, yes?”</p><p>“Almost certainly.”</p><p>Carlos bent down and kissed Chris on the lips. “Just promise me one more thing Badass.”</p><p>Chris returned the kiss, with interest. “Mmm, what’s that Mop Top?”</p><p>“Avoid smoking before operations, and never, ever, during them. You promise me? I am deadly serious.”</p><p>“I promise.” They kissed again, as if to seal the promise. Then Chris stood up, shakily. “Argh! I ache all over. My muscles hurt in places I didn’t know I had muscles. It feels like I’ve been in combat!”</p><p>“Hombre! Last night wasn’t combat, just lack of practice on your part! Jajaja. Don’t worry, I will massage those aching muscles in the shower, personally, every one.”</p><p>“And then?”</p><p>“You can massage mine. Hmm, one more tip for you, whilst I think of it. Grow some stubble Badass. If you can.”</p><p>“What!”</p><p>“Stubble, like mine. It drives women crazy. They love it. And a lot of men do too. Oh, and grow some bigger muscles.”</p><p>“Muscles?”</p><p>“Yes, big muscles, just like mine.”</p><p>“But won’t I end up looking <em>just</em> like you? What with the stubble, <em>and </em>the muscles?”</p><p>“Christopher, you say that like it is a bad thing! Jajaja! Besides, you will never, ever, have such beautiful hair!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Achieving Balance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Has the arrival of Carlos Oliveira damaged Chris and Piers’ relationship? Carlos makes his move on Piers, how will he react? And how will the arrival of a new member affect the team? Will they achieve balance?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope I’ve got Sheva’s character right.  Like Carlos Oliveira, there’s not much to go on when you look at Canon dialogue.  She’s older, more mature here than when she first met Chris, but he’s still her Superhero!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Previously:</b>
</p><p>“Do you know many women Piers Nivans?”</p><p>Piers hung his head. “No.”</p><p>“I thought not. Take my advice, stick to what you do know Chico. Now, are you quite sure you won’t change your mind?” Carlos swung his legs over the side of the bed.</p><p>Piers dropped to his knees. “You won’t tell Chris about this? Promise me?”</p><p>“If he doesn’t ask, I won’t tell. Jajaja!”</p><p>
  <b>Continuation:</b>
</p><p>Piers slid his left hand between Carlos’ legs, cupping his balls.</p><p>Oliveira moaned softly, as much in anticipation as in pleasure.</p><p>Smiling up at him, Piers slowly wet his lips with his tongue.</p><p>“Yes. Oh, yes!” Carlos murmured, his dark eyes fluttering in ecstasy.</p><p>Piers bent his head. His moistened lips now tantalizingly close to the end of Carlos’ stiffening dick.</p><p>Carlos urged him on. “Don’t stop now, you foxy boy.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Piers said softly, before gently blowing over the tip of Carlos’ member. As Carlos closed his eyes, Piers suddenly tightened his left hand and squeezed. Hard.</p><p>Carlos’ initial moan of pleasure immediately turned to a cry of pain.</p><p>“Argh! Tu puta madre!”</p><p>“Stand up!” Piers ordered, whilst maintaining his grip, his voice now ice cold.</p><p>“Ngh!” Carlos got to his feet unsteadily. “Joder! What are you doing? I thought you might play rough, but this! Piers?” Piers increased the pressure slightly. “Ayee!”</p><p>“Shut it! If you want to keep them, follow me into the salon.” Piers slowly backed out of the cabin, all the while keeping his grip on Carlos’ scrotum. Carlos had no option but to follow him.</p><p>Once in the salon, Piers moved his face to within an inch of Oliveira’s. “If you ever try to come between Chris and me again you’re dead!” the sniper snarled. “I can make an unassisted slot from over 2000 yards. You’ll never see it coming. Do I make myself clear?”</p><p>“Si, si, tu puta loca!”</p><p>“Good! Now sit down, be a nice little agent, and help me go through this information like Chris asked us to.”</p><p>“You bastard!”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Foolishly, Carlos had cursed before Piers let go.</p><p>“Argh! Ok, Ok!” Carlos spread his arms wide in submission, though what he really wanted to do was cradle his now aching manhood in his own, gentler, hands.</p><p>Piers finally released his hold and Carlos sat down, pale and shaking.</p><p>“Yes, I’m a bastard. And a bigger one than you. Did you really think I’d betray Chris’ trust just so you could put another notch on your bed post? I’m grateful for what you did for him after Raccoon. I appreciate what you did for Major Valentine. I even think some of your advice to me tonight might prove useful. But I’m not going to pay the price you ask. Not now, not ever. Understand?” Carlos nodded sulkily. “I’ve seen through you Carlos Oliveira. Now, we can work professionally together on this operation. Who knows, we may even become friends one day. But you try and fuck with me again, or with Chris, and I swear, you’ll regret it.”</p><p>Carlos tried to recover his dignity. “It’s your loss tonight Chico. You touched heaven, pity you didn’t get to taste it.”</p><p>Piers shook his head. “You know, you really are unbelievable! Now, if you’re ready, let’s get down to business.”</p><p>“Can I put some clothes on first? I feel so, so naked.”</p><p>“You are naked! And no, you can’t! I might not like having to work with you, but I can at least enjoy the view …”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Chris was back on the roof of the old office building, leaning against the parapet. He checked his watch, watching the glowing hands move remorselessly in the gathering dark. He’d decided to give them another hour before he returned to the yacht. It should be over by then. He hated the thought of catching the two of them in the act together. He had a vision of Piers lying face down on crumpled sheets. Of Carlos running a hairy hand over the cool, white, skin. He closed his eyes to stop any tears, and took another long drag on his joint …</p><p>Unseen below, Piers walked quietly towards the building. A hundred yards away from it he was challenged by the soldier on guard.</p><p>“Halt. Identify yourself!”</p><p>“Lieutenant Piers Nivans, Able Team. Here’s my ID …”</p><p>As he got closer, Piers could make out the row of hazmat suits hanging out to dry in the evening breeze. Next to them, the temporary field decontamination tunnel, a jigsaw of telescopic rods, polythene sheeting and shower units. He could hear laughter coming from inside the office. When he entered the room it immediately fell into an uncomfortable silence. The team were sat on the floor, playing cards. They looked up at him, pale faced and fearful under the dim yellow light cast by the single bulb.</p><p>Shit! Am I really that frightening to people? Piers thought. Perhaps Carlos was right about that at least? There was only one way to find out. He steeled himself … to be nice.</p><p>“Er, please don’t let me stop you enjoying your game guys. Is Lieu … is Mike here?”</p><p>“The El Tee’s in the office, Sir.” The young sergeant pointed uneasily to an adjoining room.</p><p>“Thank you, uh, Sergeant.” Piers smiled at him. The sergeant smiled back nervously. Lieutenant Nivans had never spoken directly to him before, it felt weird!</p><p>Lieutenant Avery was sat at an old wooden desk, writing up his daily report for Command. Piers paused, then knocked on the open door.</p><p>Avery thought it was one of his men. “Hey, come in. You know you don’t need to knock.” He looked up from his laptop, surprised.</p><p>“Oh! It’s you! Now what?”</p><p>“I, I’ve come to apologize.”</p><p>“Say what?” Avery pushed back in his chair, astounded.</p><p>Piers cleared his throat. “I’ve come to say I’m sorry. I been a jerk lately. I haven’t behaved as I should to a brother officer. I apologize Mike.” He put out a steady right hand.</p><p>Avery stood up, still in shock, then put his own right hand out. “Apology accepted Piers, if you can accept mine. I haven’t exactly covered myself in glory either. Able’s business is it’s own.” They only shook hands briefly, but at least it was a start.</p><p>“Um, where’s Chris? He said he was coming here to talk to you.”</p><p>“The Captain’s up on the roof. He, er, he seems kinda’ sad Piers” Avery volunteered, “Sorta’ apprehensive. I don’t know how else to describe it.”</p><p>“Oh! Thanks for the tip Mike. I’d better go see what’s up.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.”</p><p>After Piers left to go upstairs, a dumbfounded Lieutenant joined an equally dumbfounded team. “Did that really just happen?”</p><p>Avery’s sergeant spoke for them all. “I know El Tee. It was creepy. He was, he was kinda’ like normal …”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Piers bounded up the stairs two at a time, away from the ensuing baffled chatter below. The jumble of the undead’s bodies that had blocked it previously had gone now. Only the spent cartridge cases remained to show Piers’ former occupation of the roof. He saw Chris in profile, leaning over the parapet, smoking. His face seemed wet, and his eyes were shut tight.</p><p>“Chris?” Piers called out softly.</p><p>Chris immediately spun around. “Piers! Is that you?” He threw the cigarette out beyond the parapet and ran to embrace his partner, hugging him tightly.</p><p>“Hey, easy now! Are you Ok? Avery said you seemed sad. Why didn’t you come back to the boat?”</p><p>“I didn’t want to walk in on you and Carlos. I was afraid of what I’d find.” Chris almost sobbed.</p><p>“Oh Chris, did you really think I’d betray your trust?”</p><p>“He didn’t try it on?”</p><p>Piers laughed. “Oh yeah, he tried. And he failed. I think his pride hurt more than his balls.”</p><p>“Balls?”</p><p>“I had to get his, um, full attention.”</p><p>“I guess that would do it, knowing Carlos. Uh, listen, Piers, I need to tell you something, about when he and I first met …”</p><p>“I don’t want to know Chris. I don’t need to know. It was a long time ago, a different time. It’s done with, in the past. I want us to have a fresh start. One that doesn’t involve Carlos Oliveira.”</p><p>“Don’t judge him too harshly Piers, please? He gave me some good advice back then. He was trying to help us both in his own funny way, me and Jill.”</p><p>“Funny! That’s one word for it. I could think of several others less complimentary. But I have to admit, he gave me some good advice too this evening.</p><p>"What?”</p><p>“To stop being a dick. To you, to everyone around me.”</p><p>“You gonna’ take it?”</p><p>“I’m here aren’t I?”</p><p>“Oh Piers!” Chris pulled him in close again.</p><p>“Chris!” Piers lay his against Chris’ chest, and closed his eyes.</p><p>“No more secrets, I promise.” Chris whispered.</p><p>“And no more dickhead Lt West Point.”</p><p>“Anything else?”</p><p>“He said I’d learnt a lesson.”</p><p>“And did you?”</p><p>“I’m not sure. I understand now that I shouldn’t mix my personal emotions with field work.”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“He said other things too.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“N,nothing much … stupid things, to wind me up. They’ll keep. Gotta’ stay focussed.”</p><p>“You’ll get there Piers. We both will, if it’s what we truly want.”</p><p>“I do want it Chris.”</p><p>“Good! So do I.” They kissed, then Chris’ hands slid down to Piers’ butt. “Can we … Do you want to?” It was the first time either one of them had properly asked the other beforehand.</p><p>“Yes. But not here, not with Avery and his men downstairs. I scouted out a Ship’s Chandlers the other day. Whilst I was looking for the scuba gear. A couple of blocks away, secluded roof …”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>The love they made that night was tender, gentle. So different to the combat-fueled frenzy of the night before. It was an enduring love, one that nourished a partnership, not simply satisfied a craving. And after they’d made love, they talked, Chris’ arm wrapped around Piers’ shoulders to keep him warm as they watched the stars wheel overhead.</p><p>“I updated Jill and Barry earlier.”</p><p>“Barry? As in Barry Burton?”</p><p>“Yes, he’s our controller now.”</p><p>“Why the sudden change?”</p><p>“You’ve got to be flexible for field work …”</p><p>Piers sniggered. “I think I just demonstrated my flexibility.”</p><p>“Behave! You’re beginning to sound like Carlos.”</p><p>“Ugh! But I thought he was just a combat advisor?”</p><p>“He’s a lot more than that. Not just professionally, but on a personal level too.”</p><p>“How’d you mean? I only ever met him during combat training. He’s sort of half civilian, half BSAA.”</p><p>“He’s also sort of a father figure. To Claire, as well as Jill and me. He kinda’ took it upon himself after Raccoon City. A shoulder to cry on, someone to share your troubles with. A substitute Dad. Anyway, he’s also our controller now. It takes the pressure and the spotlight off Jill back at Command. Trouble is, it also makes this more of a black op than ever. Not a word to Carlos for the time being.”</p><p>“You still don’t trust him?”</p><p>“Oh, I trust him, in a fight. Even to do the right thing, eventually. And he does mean well. But he talks too much. It’s just the way he is.”</p><p>“Is Barry his controller now too?”</p><p>“No, he’s still under Jill, as Agent Granite.”</p><p>“Heh, heh!”</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>“You said he’s under Jill. I imagine him as more of a top …”</p><p>“Piers! That’s not funny … well, it is kinda. But don’t tell the Major I said so.”</p><p>“What about finding us a ride?”</p><p>“Done. The West African Branch have agreed to put a helicopter and pilot at our disposal. They should be arriving within 24 hours. It’s another day lost, but it’s the best we can do under the circumstances.”</p><p>“Did you brief Avery and his men by the way? I was so busy being nice, I forgot to ask them.”</p><p>“Nice?”</p><p>“I’ll explain later.”</p><p>“Alright. Avery, yes, they’d already figured something unusual was up, given the scenario. Whatever the virus is, it is seems to have a short half-live. Avery thinks they’ve got some undamaged samples from inside the container, using their remote-control robot. But they won’t know for sure until they get a full analysis done back at the lab.”</p><p>“Damn! That reminds me. Something else I forgot to mention in all the, uh, excitement.”</p><p>“Really? You forgot two things? That doesn’t sound like you.”</p><p>“Sorry, I’m still getting used to the new me. You’re my first priority now.”</p><p>“Stay mission focussed Piers, you can worry about me when we get back home.”</p><p>“I’ll always worry about you, wherever you are. Anyway, what I forgot to say was Carlos and I believe that container was loaded at Saint-Lois.”</p><p>“That’s a big thing to forget!”</p><p>“Sorry, I was distracted.”</p><p>“Yeah, I suppose so. Don’t make a habit of it though. So, why not Dakar? It’s a big city, lots more potential for cover, better infrastructure.”</p><p>“Exactly, Saint-Louis is smaller, much less well known. Most people would simply overlook it. Which is exactly why it would suit Green Umbrella. Plus, and this clinches it, we found an STC bill of lading tying in to Saint-Louis.”</p><p>“Hmm, I’m familiar with a bill of lading, but what’s an STC one?”</p><p>“It stands for ‘Said To Contain.’ It’s a term used in cases where the the goods in a sealed container can’t be examined effectively.”</p><p>“And you wouldn’t want anyone examining a container full of some deadly virus. Right?”</p><p>“Exactly. Not only that, but this STC formed a 'hazardous cargo’ addendum to the ship’s original manifest from Cape Town.”</p><p>“Good work! How come you know all this stuff?”</p><p>“I didn’t. But Carlos did. Whatever else he is, he certainly did his homework before he came here.”</p><p>“He’s a clever and resourceful man Piers, never underestimate him. So what else did you get? Where was the container from?”</p><p>“The markings on it, and the STC, only refer to a local haulier. Transport Sahel, headquartered in Saint-Louis.”</p><p>“No clues to the original source I suppose?”</p><p>“No, but it’s a good start. What do you think?”</p><p>“I think I’d better let Barry know what you’ve found out and update him on our intended plans ASAP. The next few days are going to be interesting. Tomorrow we get our helicopter, and now, we’ve got somewhere to go in it. We’ll check out this haulage company, and the container port in Saint-Louis. See if the locals saw or knew anything. It might be of part a regular cargo run.”</p><p>Piers looked across at the semi-submerged ship lying in the harbor. “Yeah, not any more.”</p><p>“We’ve found the haystack Piers. Now all we have to do is find the needle.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Late the following afternoon, the BSAA WAB helicopter came in low from the south-east at 100 ft. It gained height briefly over the port to spot the landing site, then touched down on a cleared area not far from the office building.</p><p>The first thing the Captain noticed were the box-like sand filters fitted in front of the turbine intakes. Why couldn’t the NAB afford them? They had to be cheaper than fitting a new engine.</p><p>The second thing Chris noticed was the perfect flare, just before the helicopter actually landed. He recognized good airmanship when he saw it. He grinned appreciatively.</p><p>The first thing Piers noticed was that the pilot wasn’t wearing the standard olive drab BSAA flight suit as they climbed down from the cockpit. He tutted, inwardly.</p><p>The first of several things Carlos noticed were the calf length leather boots, followed by the tight trousers that encased the long, slim legs that seemed to stretch up and up to heaven. When the pilot removed her helmet, long, black, braided hair fell below her shoulders. He wolf-whistled admiringly.</p><p>“Ay, ay, ay! Now that, Peers, is a woman! Just so you know, in case you ever get to meet one.” Carlos jabbed him hard in the ribs with his elbow.</p><p>Piers bit his lip and let the jibe pass. But Chris didn’t.</p><p>“Sheva Alomar is also one of the best hand-to-hand fighters I’ve ever met. I’d watch my step if I were you Carlos.” he said from the side of his mouth. Then he turned and grinned broadly. “Nice touchdown, Partner!”</p><p>“Chris, my superhero! It’s been far too long!” she ran over and threw her bare arms around his neck.</p><p>“Sheva! Chris hugged her tight and lifted her off the ground.</p><p>"Wheee!” her feet kicked in pleasure.</p><p>“How long have you been a pilot?” he asked as he gently put her back down on the ground.</p><p>“After you defeated Wesker. I thought it was an excellent skill to acquire.”</p><p>“Correction! After WE defeated him. We were equal partners, remember?”</p><p>“Heh, heh, if you say so Captain. Now, this must be Piers. It’s an honor to meet you.” Sheva giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry, can I call you that? Or would you prefer the more formal 'Lieutenant Nivans’?”</p><p>“No, the honor is all mine Ma'am.” Piers bowed his head slightly. “Chris has told me so much about you. And yes, you may call me Piers. Any friend of Chris’ is a friend of mine.” Piers shot Carlos a withering glance.</p><p>“And this is?”</p><p>“I am Carlos Oliveira, at your service Chica. Warrior, and extraordinary lover.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Agent Granite, Sheva. The man I was, ahem, telling you about.” explained Chris.</p><p>“Ahh, yes. Your reputation precedes you, Mr Oliveira.”</p><p>“Please call me Carlos, all my foxy ladies do.”</p><p>But Sheva had already taken Chris’ arm and moved on. “How are you Chris? What have you been doing? Why are you all here? How is Jill? Josh sends his regards by the way, he’s a proud father now, a boy and a girl. And you and Piers? He seems friendlier than I’d heard. Oh, there is so much to catch up on. You must tell me everything.”</p><p>“Hey, slow down there, I’m getting old now.”</p><p>“Never Captain, not in my eyes …”</p><p>Carlos stood opened mouthed. Piers sniggered as he walked by. “You’re losing it Carlos. Two refusals in two days. Better quit whilst you’re still ahead.”</p><p>“Peers? How can you be so beautiful, and yet such a pain in the ass?”</p><p>“What was it you said last night? Oh yes, 'look in the mirror’. Perhaps you should try it yourself?”</p><p>Carlos looked at him coldly at first, then his stubbled lips turned up into a grin and he burst out laughing. “Jajaja! See? You did listen to my wonderful advice. It is always the best. Hombre, let us stop this fighting, I am a lover, not a fighter, remember? Let us be partners.”</p><p>“What! I thought I made myself clear the other night …”</p><p>“Ay, Dios! Not partners like that! Unless of course, you ever want to change your mind. My door is <em>always</em> open. I mean partners like those two. Amigos, no enemigos.” Carlos put his hand out. “What do you say Piers? Deal?”</p><p>Piers thought about it. It would make their field work easier. Chris didn’t seem to have any real problems with Carlos. And Sheva Alomar could obviously look after herself by all accounts. Did he want to be the one at odds with the rest of them? The old Piers would have, but he didn’t want to be that person anymore. Carlos might be a sex-crazed maniac, but his advice seemed sound. He put his own hand out.</p><p>“Deal. But no hanky-panky, understand?”</p><p>“Que?”</p><p>“It means keep your brain in your pants!”</p><p>“Ah, si! Jajaja!”</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>It didn’t take Carlos Oliveira long to forget his promise. He was proudly showing Sheva around his floating hideaway when he decided to take another opportunity to flirt with her.</p><p>“This is my cabin, we can share it together, Chica.”</p><p>But Chris overheard. And he had other plans. “Sheva will use our cabin tonight Carlos! Piers and I will move our gear into the salon and make do there. Give me a hand would you Piers?”</p><p>Carlos pretended to look hurt for a moment, then turned back to Sheva, all smiles and fluttering eyelashes.</p><p>“So, foxy lady! What do you think?”</p><p>Sheva looked at him cooly. “I think it must have been a nice boat once Agent Granite. In it’s day.” her inference was obvious</p><p>But Carlos ignored her irony and moved closer to her. “I didn’t mean the yacht, Guapa. Do you not feel it? The chemistry between us?” He took her face in his hands, rubbing his thumb along her lips.</p><p>The next moment he felt himself flying through the air, then landing with a heavy thud on the deck behind her.</p><p>“Ooff! G,good move, Chica.” he grinned up at her, slightly dazed, but he always enjoyed a challenge.</p><p>“Chris taught me, you maggot!”</p><p>“Mmm, I love a lady with passion. Care to join me down here?”</p><p>He reached up, pulling her down on top of him. Sheva slapped his face, hard. As she went to strike him again, he grabbed her wrists. “What else did Chris teach you?”</p><p>“This! She brought her right knee up into his crotch.</p><p>"Argh! No Chica, not there, not again!” Carlos doubled up in pain, clutching his manhood, which was when Chris walked back in to the salon.</p><p>“I see you two are getting acquainted. Good. Um, was that the swift knee to the groin move, Sheva?”</p><p>“Yes Chris, just as you taught me.” Sheva sprung up lithely, standing astride the hapless agent.</p><p>The Captain smiled at her fondly. “The old moves are always the best. They never fail.” Chris extended a hand to the prone man. “Come on Mop-Top, up you get.”</p><p>“¡Ay Dios! She is crazy loco, like that Peers! ¡Mis cojones! ¡Mis pobres cojones!”</p><p>“Hmm, quite. Where’s that Holy Mother of yours when you need her?”</p><p>Piers came out to see what all the commotion was about, and quickly assessed the situation. Obviously Carlos’ brain was already trying to escape confinement. It made his mind up. He smiled sweetly. “Oh, Carlos, about the sleeping arrangements. Chris and I decided to stay in our cabin. Miss Alomar can have yours, we found some clean sheets for her.”</p><p>“But what … agh … about … huff … me?”</p><p>“You’ll think of something. I’ll give you a hand to clear your gear. You seem a little short of breath! Perhaps you should get a box to put your things in?”</p><p>Chris couldn’t help it. He burst into rare belly laugh. “Box, aka protective gear, as in for cojones! Ha, ha, ha!”</p><p>The only person who didn’t join in the laughter was Carlos Oliveira.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Having sorted their accommodation out, Chris took Sheva to get a briefing from Avery.</p><p>There was a murmur of surprise, and appreciation, from the clean-up team as they entered. They weren’t used to having such a striking and attractive guest.</p><p>“Perhaps we could talk in the office?” Chris suggested.</p><p>“Oh no Chris, I want to speak to all the team.” Sheva protested. “Our WAB clean-up teams are far behind yours in techniques. Any new information would be invaluable.”</p><p>She listened quietly during the team’s briefing. Occasionally taking notes, or asking pertinent questions. When they finished, she shook all their hands gratefully.</p><p>“Thank you all very much. You have been very kind. I know that it is a gruesome task for you. Lieutenant Avery, I understand you have burnt all the bodies now?”</p><p>“Yes Ma'am. It’s our first priority I’m afraid, after we’ve taken tissue samples. Then we prepare a pit and … well, you get the picture.”</p><p>“Chris, Lieutenant? I have a favor to ask you. Would you mind if I said a few prayers, at the site? These were my people. It is not fitting they should have received no proper burial service.”</p><p>Chris looked at Avery, who nodded. “You’re right. They didn’t deserve to get caught up in this. It’s a good idea Sheva, we’ll all go.”</p><p>“Tomorrow, as the sun rises, it is our tradition.”</p><p>“Sunrise it is Ma'am. Captain, can I ask, will you be leaving tomorrow?”</p><p>“Yes, after we’ve paid our respects, we’ll be off.”</p><p>“Can we give you any assistance? We’ll be leaving ourselves in the next couple of days.”</p><p>“Thank you. Any spare ammunition, radio batteries, you know the sort of stuff. Anything you can afford to loose would be gratefully received.”</p><p>“Well get some ready for you Sir. Oh, one more thing, Lieutenant Nivans, I have to ask, is he, er, alright?”</p><p>“Yes. Why?”</p><p>“N,nothing, it’s just last night he seemed …”</p><p>“Seemed what Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Seemed a bit …” Mike Avery trailed off. He wasn’t quite sure himself what Piers had seemed.</p><p>“Come to think of it, he did seem a bit …” grinned Chris, nodding in agreement. “I guess we’d both better make the most of it. Thank you for your thoughts Lieutenant. Should I pass on your concerns?”</p><p>“N,no Captain. As you say, um, let’s make the most of it.” Avery saluted crisply, before he dug himself in any deeper.</p><p>“Good!” Chris returned the salute. “Sunrise then.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>As they walked back to Carlos’ hideaway, Sheva slipped her arm into Chris’ “What did he mean about Piers?”</p><p>“It’s a long story.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>“Not now Sheva. We’ve got to prepare for tomorrow. Don’t forget, proper prior planning prevents piddle poor performance …”</p><p>“I taught you that!”</p><p>“You did? I thought it was Jill?”</p><p>“Heh, heh, we <em>both</em> told you. Remember?”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Sheva was up long before the sun. She slipped away silently from the yacht and made her way to a small beach that lay next to the harbor. Once there, she collected what she needed and then returned to the boat. The others were up now, packing the equipment they would take with them to Saint-Louis.</p><p>Chris looked up at her. “Are you ready?”</p><p>“Yes. It is time. The sun will soon be rising …”</p><p>They all gathered around the burning pit. The four agents, Avery and his men.</p><p>As the sun rose, Sheva sung a traditional hymn in the language of her people. Her voice full of warmth, like the rays of the sun that even now, moved inexorably towards the edge of the pit. She stopped. As the rays moved over the edge of the pit, bathing the darkness within with golden light, Sheva motioned to the others. Whilst she scattered the sea water she had collected over the mouth of the pit, the others threw in the handful of sand she had given each of them earlier.</p><p>When they had finished, they recited the Lord’s Prayer together. Sheva looked into the pit and spoke in both her own language and English. When she had finished, she bowed her head. “We shall remember you.”</p><p>“Amen.” they all murmured.</p><p>As they walked away, Sheva spoke to Avery. “Thank you for attending. It was well done.”</p><p>“You do this every time? In the WAB?”</p><p>“Yes, when the circumstances permit.”</p><p>“We should do the same in the NAB. As well as being fit and proper, I think it would also help give the clean-up teams a sense of closure. I’ll recommend it when we get back. Captain, would you sponsor me? Captain?”</p><p>“Sorry, lost in my thoughts. Yes, absolutely, 100%.” replied Chris quietly.</p><p>Sheva smiled. “Good. Then you will have learnt from us, as we have learnt from you Lieutenant. That is fitting. All our actions should be in balance, as are life and death.”</p><p>“Good luck Ma'am. With whatever it is you’re all up to.”</p><p>“Thank you. The Captain makes his own luck, but I have learnt that you can never have enough. And to you and your team, I wish you a safe journey home and the thanks of my people.”</p><p>Once again, Sheva took Chris’ arm in hers. “Don’t be sad Chris, they have gone now. There is nothing more you can do for them, except to remember them.”</p><p>“There is <em>one</em> more thing. I will make those responsible for their deaths face justice.”</p><p>“You have wisdom.”</p><p>“I have anger!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Teamwork</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As they prepare to leave for Saint-Louis, Senegal, to investigate Green Umbrella, Chris splits the team up, leaving Piers less than impressed.  Meanwhile back in the USA, Barry keeps Jill’s spirits up as they team together to fight the enemy within the North American Branch of the BSAA.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sheva called up on the helicopter’s intercom. “Piers, is Agent Granite securely strapped in?”</p><p>“Yes Ma'am.” he replied, after double checking.</p><p>“Good. I want to know where his hands are at all times whilst we’re in the air. And please, do call me Sheva. We are partners now.”</p><p>“Um, roger that!” Piers blushed.</p><p>“Mierda! So beautiful, yet so cruel!” Carlos sighed heavily. “Just like you my friend, eh?” he smirked, nudging Piers in the ribs. “You trust her, up there with your Captain?” he nodded towards the cockpit.</p><p>“More than I trust you!” Piers reposted angrily. “Now why don’t you just look out of the window, enjoy the view … and shut the fuck up!” Carlos turned and looked out, smiling to himself. He’d just struck a nerve. Perhaps the handsome Piers would come around after all?</p><p>After they’d started the engines, Sheva turned to Chris and grinned. “Would you like to fly, Partner?”</p><p>“Thank you, I’d appreciate that. It’ll help me focus!”</p><p>“Good. I’ll navigate, since I know where I’m going. He, he! You have control Captain.”</p><p>“I have control.” Chris took hold of the control yoke. “Captain to pax, prepare for take off … “</p><p>On the dockside, Mike Avery saluted goodbye, then turned to his team. "Well boys, that’s the strangest bunch of field agents I’ve ever set eyes on. God help the opposition. Now, remember, if anyone asks back home, Captain Redfield and Lieutenant Nivans left with the rest of Able Team. Got it?”</p><p>“Sir, yes Sir.”</p><p>“Good, now how about an early breakfast? We’ve got a lot of work to do today. I want a smooth handover to the local militia tomorrow …”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>“… What do you mean you don’t know!” Exploded Command 3.</p><p>“Exactly that Colonel. Captain Redfield and Lieutenant Nivans were not on the transport when it touched down at Lajes Field.”</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>“The Azores, Sir. It, er, would appear they’ve gone AWOL.”</p><p>The Colonel brought both fists down on Jill’s desk. “Rogue! Dammit Valentine! I leave you in charge of the mission and you tell me they’ve gone rogue! Bloody Redfield, bloody founders! You can’t trust them … !”</p><p>“With respect Colonel, I might only be an Ops Controller, but I would remind you that I am also a founder.”</p><p>“And I would remind you, Major, that I am your superior officer!”</p><p>Jill resisted the urge to knock him to the floor. She smiled through clenched teeth, hiding her equally clenched fists beneath the desk. “Would you like me to commence enquiries? Interview Able Team perhaps?”</p><p>“No! You’ve done quite enough already. I shall deal with Redfield personally!”</p><p>Colonel Pritchard stormed out of Jill’s office. A moment later a smiling, bearded face peered around the door.</p><p>“He sounded angry.”</p><p>“He was!”</p><p>“As a <em>General</em> rule, I try and avoid angry <em>Colonels</em>.”</p><p>“Oh Barry! Heh, heh. How about hungry <em>Majors</em>?”</p><p>“They’re Ok. Usual place?”</p><p>“Ugh! I hate that diner!”</p><p>“So does everyone else. That’s why it’s always quiet. Oh, by the way, I thought you were the one who was meant to act angry about Chris’ disappearance?”</p><p>“I didn’t get the chance. Either he saw the passenger list or someone tipped him off.”</p><p>“If he didn’t know where Lajes Field was, he’s unlikely to know about aircraft passenger lists either.”</p><p>“Hmm. Just how much of our conversation did you hear?”</p><p>“Enough. My guess is some minion informed him.”</p><p>“Where does that leave us?”</p><p>“It leaves us looking for someone else with a secret.”</p><p>“How many more are there?” Jill sighed. “Can you give me half an hour? I must contact Able Team ASAP. Command 3 might want to bring them in for interrogation.”</p><p>“Ok. I’ll join you inside the diner. Oh, and Jill, don’t be too careful getting there this evening.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I’ve gotta’ hunch someone might try and follow you tonight. Take my advice, make it easy for them.”</p><p>“If you say so.”</p><p>“Good. I’m the one who’ll make it difficult.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>He picked his cell up with his good hand. “Sergeant Walker?” enquired the strained voice down the line.</p><p>“Major. You sound worried. Is everything alright? Is it about Chris … er, the Captain?”</p><p>“He’s fine, don’t worry. Where are you?”</p><p>“On base Ma'am.”</p><p>“What about the others?</p><p>"They’re all away on furlough. Ben’s gone to …”</p><p>“Never mind where they’ve gone. Listen, you’ve got to get away too, immediately! That’s an order!”</p><p>“Any suggestions Ma'am?”</p><p>“Somewhere people wouldn’t expect you to go.”</p><p>“You mean like a church, or a tea room?”</p><p>“Exactly! And do it now. Just get of the base and go. And tell the others to stay away, until I say so.”</p><p>“What the hell’s going on Major? Is this about …”</p><p>“You’ve got my private cell number?”</p><p>“Yes, but …”</p><p>“Then go! Now!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Damn! He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Why did she have to eat so far away from base? Captain Mason made a desperate dash for the john in the gasoline station.</p><p>It gave Barry all the time he needed to slip into the back of the black SUV that had been parked-up in an unlit area facing the diner. A short while later, Mason returned and got in. He checked his new Tag Heuer chronograph. 20:05.</p><p>When he looked back up, he saw the face in his rear-view mirror, and he felt the cold, snub nose of what he guessed was a 9mm in the side if his neck.</p><p>“What the fu …”</p><p>And good evening to you, Command 7.“</p><p>"Who the hell are you? How do you know my … ?”</p><p>“Barry Burton, friend and advisor to the BSAA. And I know all about you, Captain Mason.”</p><p>“Is this some kind of joke? I’m armed myself.”</p><p>“No you’re not. Whose gun do you think this is getting up close and personal? Check your glove compartment if you don’t believe me.”</p><p>Mason checked the compartment, it was empty. “What the fuck do you want?”</p><p>“Language! Just a little chat. Nice wheels by the way. X5, 4.8 liter? What’s that in good old American inches? 293?”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose so. Is that relevant?” said Mason sullenly.</p><p>“I love those Bavarians, so meticulous. Yours?”</p><p>“Of course! Look, what’s all this about Burton?”</p><p>Barry ignored him. “I see you’ve got a trailer hitch fitted. Let me guess. Jet skis for the weekend and a travel trailer for vacations? Am I right?”</p><p>“A speedboat actually, not jet skis.”</p><p>“Sweet lifestyle, expensive car, expensive watch, nice toys … all on a Captain’s wages.”</p><p>“Y,yes. I’m careful.”</p><p>“You weren’t careful tonight. Someone’s gonna’ be very displeased with you, getting busted like this.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to eat.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, like you’d dine here with your money. Got you frightened have they? I know all about blackmail, believe me.”</p><p>“He wouldn’t …”</p><p>“Who said it was a man? Oh yes, you just did. Thanks. Would you start it up? I love the sound of these European V8’s.”</p><p>“W,why should I?”</p><p>Barry pushed the muzzle of the pistol deeper into the man’s flabby neck. “Humor me.”</p><p>Mason went to start car. The dashboard lit up with a red glow. “Warning, EMC failure … !” the car announced. “… Seek immediate technical assistance.”</p><p>“What’s an EMC?” asked Barry, amiably.</p><p>“Er, it’s the Engine Management Computer I think. A black box.”</p><p>“Like this one?” Barry held up a box festooned with ribbon cables.</p><p>“Y,yes. What have you done? Give it back.”</p><p>Barry got out of the car, dropped the EMC in the dirt and stomped on it with his boot heel, then handed it back to Mason through the open window.</p><p>“Here. You’d better call the dealership. BMW X5 and towed accessories for sale. One careless owner. Sell them, and put all the money back where it belongs, or you get a visit from the IRS. And believe me, they make our interrogation boys look like beginners.”</p><p>“I’ll see you busted for this … !”</p><p>“That’ll be difficult. I’m a civilian. Goodnight Mason. Enjoying being a Captain, while it lasts.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Sheva had navigated them to a small army base outside Saint-Louis. She knew the Commander there. It would be their base of operations. The helicopter would be refueled and guarded there, and the Commander would provide them with ground transport, a battered, rust colored Citroën to be exact.</p><p>“It goes better than it looks.” explained the Commander. It’s my aunt’s. I thought you’d prefer an unmarked car.“</p><p>"Great Aunt Oshenga! Do give her my love, and our thanks.” Sheva hugged him warmly in farewell.</p><p>“Do you know everyone here?” Piers asked her out of curiosity as they walked to the car.</p><p>“It pays to have good connections with the army, the police and the militia. We help one another. Don’t you do that in America?”</p><p>“Er, no, it doesn’t work like that.” Piers replied, shamefaced.</p><p>“We have local connections, but not nationally.” Chris added.</p><p>“So you are not accepted in your own country?”</p><p>“Tolerated yes, accepted, no. We can’t operate inside North America for instance.”</p><p>“It is strange. Here, we have many nations, but we are welcomed in all.”</p><p>“Are we going to be welcomed?”</p><p>“I think so, but it might be better if I ask the questions. You do rather stand out Chris.”</p><p>“Hmm! Ok, this is my initial plan. Sheva, you and I will go to the container port and ask around there. Piers, you and Carlos can pay Transport Sahel a visit. Carlos, with the research you did in Johannesburg, you can make things sound authentic.”</p><p>“Ok, Badass, I knew my knowledge would be invaluable!”</p><p>“Oh!” Piers sounded disappointed.</p><p>“You got a problem, Piers?” asked Chris.</p><p>“Uh, I just thought we might be together, as partners, you know, my first time as an SOA.”</p><p>“Well, strictly speaking, we’re not operating as SOA’s here. Besides, do you want to leave Carlos with Sheva?”</p><p>“No, por favor, mis pobres cojones! Ay! Chris, please! You work with me.”</p><p>“Chris, could I have a word in private? Please?” Piers drew him aside.</p><p>“Ok, what is it Piers? We’ve got a mission going on here.”</p><p>“I really was expecting to be with you.”</p><p>“So you think putting Sheva with Carlos is a good idea? He thinks she’s foxy, she thinks he’s a maggot. It’s not a good combination.”</p><p>“Well, no, obviously!”</p><p>“So, you think I should partner Carlos?”</p><p>“No! I don’t trust him with you.”</p><p>“So that leaves … ?”</p><p>“Alright, alright. I get it.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Aren’t you worried he might try it on with me again?”</p><p>“No. You can look after yourself, you’ve already proved that.”</p><p>“What if I’m vulnerable?”</p><p>“Yeah, right!” Chris smiled. “There’ll be other opportunities Piers, don’t worry. Tell you what, you can drive, how bout’ that?”</p><p>Chris was about to ruffle Piers hair, but the sullen look on Piers’ face made him change his mind. They re-joined the others.</p><p>“Now, you all know what to do. Piers, drop Sheva and me off at the port. Come and pick us up later. Stay in communication. Above all, stay safe. We’re just making discrete enquiries at this stage, understand?” They all nodded. “Then let’s hit the road.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Barry walked in to the diner, his face lit up in a big grin.</p><p>“That was fun.” he said as he sat opposite her in the booth.</p><p>“What was?”</p><p>“You were tailed by Captain Mason.”</p><p>“Mason? Command 7?”</p><p>“The very same. One of 3’s men I guess.”</p><p>“Yes, he’s his pet gofer.”</p><p>“More like a gopher with those chubby cheeks.”</p><p>“Barry! So what happened?”</p><p>“Someone, he let slip it’s a man, probably Pritchard, has bought him off, fancy car, fancy lifestyle. He’s busted. I warned him off. What I don’t understand is how someone like that gets Command level.”</p><p>“The inference being I haven’t?”</p><p>“It must rankle. You were a founder after all. Now, your a Major, stuck in Ops.”</p><p>“I like Ops, it’s not just about rank or level. The BSAA’s always been a top down organization. All military ones are, you know that, it comes with the territory.”</p><p>“All hail the mighty pyramid!”</p><p>“I feel I make a contribution doing what I do. I’m good at it. Chris is just the same, he needs to be in the front-line, with his ‘team family’. Can’t you be happy for us?”</p><p>“I’m proud of you. But happy?” Barry shook his head in mock sadness. “I don’t know, kids! A father’s work is never done!”</p><p>“So what’s next?”</p><p>“We order. You having the fish?”</p><p>“Ugh … !”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Chris and Sheva didn’t exactly draw a blank at the container port, but it wasn’t the 'hard’ information that Chris had hoped for. The sort of information that would have resulted in a night assault on an unsuspecting target. But it was the sort of info that filled out the bigger picture, and it might give them some further leads. Essentially, the GUL container ship had been making the trip for the last year, roughly every 6 weeks. The cargo was always delivered by Transport Sahel, who were headquartered in an industrial zone to the east of the city.</p><p>As to what the cargo was, no one knew. There were rumors it was hazardous, that was all anyone needed to know. It was always handled by the same experienced team. No, they weren’t around. They hadn’t been seen for a few days. A shrug of the shoulders, holidays perhaps? Was she police, army? Why the interest?</p><p>“We’re looking for smugglers.”</p><p>“Contraband?”</p><p>“No, people.”</p><p>“Ahh, then you should look further north, not here.”</p><p>“Yes, we will. Thanks for your help.”</p><p>Sheva stopped asking any more questions at that point. She could sense the increasing suspicion, and something more. Apprehension, fear? Chris wanted to persist, but Sheva motioned him to be quiet as she thanked each worker in turn gratefully.</p><p>“I hope we can rely on your discretion …” she said, smiling. Chris 'smiled’ at them too, just to emphasize the point.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Piers and Carlos soon found the home of Transport Sahel. A fenced-off trailer-lorry park adjacent to the main road that ran through the industrial zone and on westward to the city and it’s port. Trucks, flat-beds and containers littered the site, which was dominated by the large crane set on rails, used for loading and unloading the containers. By the roadside, a ramshackle assortment of buildings were home to a truck maintenance workshop and various offices. They parked-up on the dusty verge opposite.</p><p>“Doesn’t look much.” said Piers, disparagingly.</p><p>“They never do.” replied Carlos, laughing. “There’s plenty of money in haulage, but not much luxury.”</p><p>“That’s pretty profound for you.”</p><p>“Oh, I can do profound. When you’ve survived Raccoon City, you get a sense of proportion.”</p><p>“You, a sense of proportion! You gotta’ be kidding me!”</p><p>“Oh yes. But only when necessary. That’s why I live life to the max Piers. Because I seen how quickly it can all end.”</p><p>Piers thought about it. he was still finding this 'being nice’ thing difficult, particularly with Carlos. “I’m sorry. You’ve been through a lot, like Chris. It’s hard for me, reconciling the things you’ve seen in the past with the things you do now. It’s like you’re sort’ve …”</p><p>“Don’t my friend! Don’t try and analyze me. My Supercop, she does that. It always ends in tears, believe me.”</p><p>“Whose?”</p><p>“Both of us, usually. Together, or alone.” Carlos was silent for a moment. “Ay! She and I could be something really special, hombre. You know what I mean? But we both have this crazy, self-destructive streak.”</p><p>“The Major? She always seems very together. Almost unemotional.”</p><p>“That’s because you don’t know her.”</p><p>“And I probably never will.”</p><p>“True, besides, you’re not her type.”</p><p>“You mean my being gay?”</p><p>“Jajaja! That doesn’t help either. No, she needs passion. Something I have in abundance.”</p><p>“I’m passionate about Chris.”</p><p>“Oh yes, I believe you. You proved it the other night. But passion means something different for a woman. You don’t shower Chris with roses, or wine and dine him at some romantic restaurant.”</p><p>“Er, no. Should I?”</p><p>“Jajaja! No, my Badass wouldn’t thank you for that.”</p><p>“He’s not yours! How can you talk about the Major like that and still want Chris!”</p><p>Carlos shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just the way I am. It’s a blessing.”</p><p>“And a curse!”</p><p>“Oh no. I like it just the way it is. Jajaja! Now, tell me, what do you see, across the road?”</p><p>“Simple chain-link fencing, topped with barbed wire.”</p><p>“Electrified?”</p><p>“Umm, there are no obvious junction boxes or cables.”</p><p>“Ay! There are no signs! Even people with electric fences are afraid of them. They always have a sign. Ok, what else?”</p><p>“A couple of video cameras, overlooking the parking lot.”</p><p>“Are they moving?”</p><p>“No, fixed.”</p><p>“What are they covering?”</p><p>“Uh, the road entrance, and the offices.”</p><p>“Good, and what about those offices?”</p><p>“Some sort of video entry system.”</p><p>“Windows?”</p><p>“They look normal. Dirty, but normal.”</p><p>“Look closer, mi amigo. Those ones down the side there, they’re barred.”</p><p>“Oh, yes.”</p><p>“Barred windows mean those are the rooms we want to visit.”</p><p>“Visit?”</p><p>“You don’t think they are going to give us a guided tour do you? Tonight, we pay them visit.”</p><p>“Chris said to play it cool. Let’s just go and make some polite enquiries.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, like, 'Tell us everything you know about your customer, Green Umbrella, por favor’.” Carlos replied sarcastically.</p><p>“I was thinking more about asking about their rates, area covered, insurance, that sort of thing.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because it get’s us inside, and from there we can assess their procedures and personnel.”</p><p>“Ah, Chico! Now, you are thinking! This is how you learn. Not from a book in the academy, but with your eyes, your head, your hands.”</p><p>“I was hoping Chris would be the one to teach me.”</p><p>“Is that all you were hoping for?”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>“How’s my favorite lock-picker today?”</p><p>“Frazzled! Oh, Barry! What did you do to Mason last night?”</p><p>“Frightened him I hope. Why?”</p><p>“He’s gone, so’s Colonel Pritchard.”</p><p>“He, he, I know I’m good, but that’s impressive, even for me.”</p><p>“No! You don’t understand. They’ve gone to Africa! A direct flight to Dakar from New York, first thing this morning”</p><p>“Chris?”</p><p>“BSAA business, ostensibly. But I think there may be more to it.”</p><p>“You mean the rats are leaving the sinking ship?”</p><p>“The NAB’s not sinking!”</p><p>“Perhaps not, but it sure is leaking. I’d better let Chris know trouble’s heading their way.”</p><p>“Tell him to take care, and Carlos too. Damn, this has all the makings of a cluster fuck!”</p><p>“Both your eggs in one basket?”</p><p>“Excuse me!”</p><p>“Just sayin’.”</p><p>“Well don’t. It’s not funny!”</p><p>“They’re both big boys, they can look after themselves. Piers Nivans is a steadying influence from what I’ve heard.”</p><p>“You don’t know Carlos! Lieutenant Nivans will be a challenge! Shit, shit! You do that, I’ll let the West African Branch know.”</p><p>“Language my girl. Where did you get that from … Oh, yeah, He, he!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Piers was sat waiting in the Citroën, his fingers drumming edgily on the steering wheel.</p><p>“Where did you get to? I’ve been waiting half an hour! Do you know how hot it is?”</p><p>“Relax Chico. I’ve been looking after business.” Carlos got in, grinning broadly.</p><p>Piers looked at him. “Your fly’s open!” he said, in disbelief.</p><p>“Like I said, looking after business. Our business. That Chica, she was very helpful. Jajaja!”</p><p>“Did you just? Gah … tell me you didn’t … !”</p><p>Carlos buttoned up his chinos. “What can I say? She was foxy, and talkative. That window with the bars? That’s were their customer records are kept.”</p><p>“Did she tell you that?”</p><p>“Tell me! She screamed it, on the table … ”</p><p>“Don’t! I don’t want to hear another disgusting word.” said Piers, coloring up.</p><p>Carlos shrugged his shoulders. “Ok, I’ll tell Chris myself, I only thought you might like the kudos. You know, keep in his good books.”</p><p>“I, I don’t need your help! Chris and I are Ok, alright? Just get that into your thick head!” Piers was purple with rage now.</p><p>“Ay, Peers! Now you are screaming, just sitting next to me. I knew you’d come around. Jajaja!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Colonel Pritchard looked across at a sleeping Captain Mason and sneered. He wasn’t much of an aide. Overweight, obsequious. Oh, he did as he was told, like an old, loyal Spaniel, but when his usefulness was over, he would, metaphorically, take him out to the woods and shoot him. But first he would bring about the downfall of Christopher Redfield. And with his disgrace, the downfall of the remaining founders. Next, he would bring about the Captain’s demise. Then finally, with Redfield’s death, the demise of the BSAA. Pritchard closed his eyes, perfecting his plan, and dreaming his dreams …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. ...as others see us.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oh, to see ourselves as others see us, so the old saying goes.  People see others differently.  Will the team’s perceptions of one another affect their judgement as they prepare to break in to Transport Sahel?  Elsewhere, people realise you can’t always judge a book by its cover.  Carlos is in for a surprise, and Chris is going to be disappointed.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Piers’ hands were all over him, caressing, grasping, groping. The young sniper’s full lips followed close behind, kissing, sucking, darting over Carlos’ sweating body. The agent gasped. He’d known it would be good, but this! This was beyond any earthly paradise, or heaven itself. And he knew why. Piers was responding to his own expert touch earlier that evening. He’d given the boy something his Captain never could. Passion. And it had finally broken down Piers’ defenses. The uptight West Point soldier may already have lost his virginity, but now he’d found his soul. And he, Carlos Oliveira, had been the one to find it, and to deliver it. Expertly, personally, and with passion of his own.</p><p>The night seemed endless, like Piers’ stamina. Que fuerte! How strong he was! Their sex was inventive, physically demanding. Dios, it was good, no, better than that, it was the best. Carlos had never imagined he would meet his equal in love making, and yet here he was, over, around, and inside him. Joder! Surrender yourself Carlos, he told himself. Accept the Almighty’s gift.</p><p>After what seemed like hours, Carlos lay back on the sweat soaked pillow, his eyes, closed in a lethargic ecstasy. “Oh Piers, I knew you’d change your mind. Ay, you foxy boy! So that’s how you keep Badass happy? Que fuerte!”</p><p>"Carlos?”</p><p>“Not again Querido! Don’t you ever stop?”</p><p>“Carlos!”</p><p>“I’m exhausted! Go practice on your Captain!”</p><p>“What!?” Piers went purple with rage and slapped Carlos’ face. “Wake up, damn you!”</p><p>“Ok, Ok, one last time! I didn’t know you liked it rough as well!”</p><p>Piers slapped him again, harder this time. “I said wake up you … you maggot!”</p><p>Carlos opened his eyes and rubbed them, then rubbed his stinging cheeks. He saw someone dressed standing over him. “Piers? Is that you? Get back into bed, then you can hit me again! Jajaja! We were having such fantastic sex.”</p><p>Piers shook him forcibly. “In your dreams, literally! Now get out of bed, we’ve got a mission tonight, remember?”</p><p>“So, we didn’t just … ?”</p><p>“No!!”</p><p>“Could we? It was incredible! And believe me, I know incredible … So athletic!”</p><p>“No! How many more times! Get up and take a shower. You smell like … like an animal!”</p><p>“Jajaja! You were the animal my friend, in my dream. Que fuerte! Front and back, up and down, side to side …”</p><p>“Shut up! You’re disgusting! Clean yourself up, then join us in the Captain’s room.”</p><p>Carlos leaned on one elbow, rubbing his jaw and dreamily watching Piers’ departing backside. “Ay, que fuerte!”</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>1 am. Transport Sahel. They parked the old Citroën off the road, in the shadows cast by the neighboring building. Apart from the moonlight, the area wasn’t lit, and the African night shadows were as deep as the days were hot. All was silent except for the ticking of the car’s exhaust as it cooled. Then they heard faint barking coming from within the Transport Sahel compound.</p><p>Carlos turned to Piers. “You didn’t mention any dogs!” he said, accusingly.</p><p>“I didn’t see any. I thought you were finding that sort of thing out from your last conquest?”</p><p>“What conquest?” asked Chris suspiciously, leaning forward from the back of the car.</p><p>“Nothing.” Piers muttered.</p><p>“He means the foxy chica in the office. She gave me lots of information … and the best …”</p><p>“I don’t want to hear any more Carlos!” Chris shut him up angrily. “Dammit! We’ll have to set up a diversion.”</p><p>“I can do that Chris. I have a way with animals.” Sheva offered, sensing the increasing tension inside the car.</p><p>“Perhaps you can try it on Agent Granite sometime.” suggested Piers.</p><p>“That’s not funny, mi amigo!”</p><p>“Nor helpful.” added Chris pointedly. “I would remind you two we’re on ops, not in kindergarten.”</p><p>“S,sorry Chris.”</p><p>“Lo siento Capitán.”</p><p>“Yes, thank you Sheva, that would be great. I’ll give you ten minutes. Is that enough?” Sheva nodded. “Good, take Piers with you for back-up. When the time’s up, Carlos and I will disable the video cameras in the lorry park, then enter the office. This is a simple break-in. We get in, get what we want, and leave, quietly. Piers, Sheva, once you’ve neutralized the dogs, maintain a watch out front and keep our exit route open. No radio comms except in emergency. Got it?” They all nodded. “Then let’s do this.”</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>“I’m sorry, this is all my fault …”</p><p>Piers started to explain as he and Sheva made their way towards the rear of the lorry park, moving warily from lorry to lorry, container to container, shadow to shadow, using them for cover. Sheva put a finger to his lips and mouthed the word ‘later’. Then she smiled encouragingly. He seemed so sad, this intense young soldier who put his Captain above all else. He would learn, he had a good teacher in Chris Redfield, just as she had had barely a year ago. She held Chris in the highest regard, but she sensed that Piers held him in something even higher, beyond devotion.</p><p>She forced herself to focus on the matter in hand. Agh, Dobermans! Why couldn’t they have been German Shepherds? They were so much more logical …</p><p>Chris checked the luminous hands of his watch, then signaled Carlos to move forward. Like the others, they were both dressed overall in charcoal gray, since nothing is truly black at night. They disabled the lorry-park video cameras without difficulty. A short while later, Chris’ hands were moving rapidly over the controls of the office entry system, quickly neutralizing it.</p><p>Carlos looked on with a sense of awe, and pride. He was amazed how nimble the Badass’s thick, calloused fingers were. He had grown so much physically since their first, and last, meeting twelve years ago. The naive young STARS officer had clearly taken his advice back then. The macho stubble, the brawny physique. It was easy to understand why Piers had fallen in love with him. Even as he looked, he felt a familiar stirring in his loins. Ay, my hungry friend, not now! He told himself. I have work to do. Afterwards perhaps, when we have finished.</p><p>The vision in his mind’s eye of such a prospect only served to stiffen Carlos’ manhood even further. Mierda! Such a curse! And such a blessing! He smiled as Chris gave him a thumbs-up, his teeth white in the night. Chris pointed to Carlos, then to the inside. Then he pointed to himself and his eyes, moving his fingers from side to side. Carlos understood. Chris would stay on watch whilst he entered the strong room and cracked the safe.</p><p>The safe was massive, heavy. 'Fichet-Bauche, fabriqué à Paris 1967’. But what it had in history and weight, it lacked in sophistication. A simple dial combination lock. He squatted down and placed an ear against the age worn mechanism. He had it cracked within a minute and swung open the heavy steel door. He smiled. Jill would have been proud of him. His Supercop had a way with locks too. He still remembered that time with the handcuffs … Ay!</p><p>Carlos shook the pleasant memories from his mind. Not now mi amigo! Concentrate! He knew exactly what to look for amongst the contents of the safe. Recent bills of lading from the last week, destination Nouadhibou, Mauritania, via Saint-Louis, courtesy of Green Umbrella Lines. Ah, here! Now, do they give me the trader’s address? Hmm, what’s this? 'By prior arrangement’. Mierda! Ok, how about the driver’s duty logs? Yes, there they are! In the red light of his mini-Maglite torch, Carlos scanned down the sheets. Dah, dah, da … Ah, here! One container for pick-up, the seventh … Mmm, from Chimiques Richard Toll, Senegal … Interesting, up near the northern border! Carlos went to the customer files. As he expected, the folder marked Chimiques, R-T proved to be empty. It was unhelpful, but still, he had enough, just. He copied down what details there were and then carefully replaced the documents before closing the safe. No point in alerting people.</p><p>Carlos gave Chris the thumbs up as he exited the office. Chris nodded curtly. He heard a huffing noise and turned, which is when he saw the two Dobermans bounding towards him, mouths open, tongues lolling, sharp teeth flecked with foam.</p><p>“Shit!” Chris cursed under his breath. He frantically signaled to Carlos for him to go back inside, then reached down automatically for his gun. At the last second he decided he’d use his knife instead, it would be quieter. He pulled it from its sheath then crouched low, arms out, bracing himself. It was gonna’ be close. But the two dogs curved past him, their tail stumps wagging. He spun around, and saw Sheva holding a yellow tennis ball in her hand. Beside her, Piers was bent down, patting his knees in encouragement. The Dobermans raced up to them, panting in excitement. Sheva threw the ball and they both raced off after it again; away from the entrance.</p><p>Piers stood up and smiled. “C'mon Captain. They’re gonna’ get bored eventually.”</p><p>Chris grinned in relief, but kept the knife in his hand. Just in case 'eventually’ came soon.</p><p>“Alright, let’s cover our tracks, then get outta’ here.”</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>Piers drove away as quietly as the old car would allow; constantly checking his rearview mirror in case they’d picked up a tail. Chris was the first to break the silence.</p><p>“Ok Carlos, what did you get?”</p><p>“A company name, and an address. Chimiques Richard Toll …”</p><p>“That’s under two hours drive from here. Strange, Richard Toll is very close to the border with Mauritania.” Sheva sounded suspicious.</p><p>“Do you know the place? asked Chris, picking up on Sheva’s tone.</p><p>"No, but my Uncle will. The army keeps a close eye on the border zone. Relations between our two countries remain strained after the border war.”</p><p>“But surely that was twenty years ago?” Chris said in surprise. “We studied it at the Air Force Academy. Under 'Current Conflicts’, or something like that, I seem to remember.”</p><p>“Twenty years is nothing when your history goes back thousands of years Chris. I had hoped the source of this virus would be elsewhere.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I want my country to be better than that, hosting God knows what facilities.”</p><p>“I guess they feel the same in Mauritania, after all, Nouadhibou hosts the toxic waste site.”</p><p>“Yes, you are right. I can’t very well espouse West African unity <em>and</em> be nationalistic.”</p><p>“It’s not easy, trust me. When the founders set up the BSAA, we so wanted it to be unified. A truly worldwide organization. We got the world part, but unified? I’m not so sure.”</p><p>“You are so strange for a military man Captain, you are a deep thinker.”</p><p>Piers smiled, he liked hearing his Captain receiving compliments. He determined he would try it more often himself.</p><p>“Hmphh, I’m not so sure. Some people say I don’t think enough.”</p><p>“Not me Chris!” Piers blurted out. There was an embarrassing silence, then Carlos laughed.</p><p>“Jajaja, Captain Badass takes after me, I taught him that very first time …”</p><p>“Enough!” Chris growled. “Can we please concentrate on the operation? For instance, why are Umbrella operating so close to a tense border? Will that pose us any problems Sheva?”</p><p>“It’s a very sensitive area to build such an installation. Free movement is restricted.”</p><p>“I don’t imagine Green Umbrella told them it’s true purpose. This Chimiques Company is most likely a front for GUL.”</p><p>“Whoever it was, they must have had tacit approval from the regional governor’s office at least, possibly the central government as well. For such permissions, money will have exchanged hands. A lot of money.”</p><p>“Umbrella have plenty of that!”</p><p>“It may also involve the Mauritanian authorities. They are suspicious of any activity along our shared border, but there is always an agreeable price.”</p><p>“You mean bribery?”</p><p>“To you, yes. For us, it is just the way things are done, Chris.”</p><p>“Si, si. It is the same in my country. There, it is a national pastime. Jajaja!”</p><p>Chris was thinking fast. “So, can we still rely on your Uncle’s help now?”</p><p>“He is an honest man. But perhaps he will only provide intelligence from now on. I would not wish to involve him directly in politics. We may have to operate officially as the BSAA. Or go completely undercover.”</p><p>“The BSAA? We could do that?”</p><p>“Yes Piers. They are respected here, because they are seen as part of the UN.”</p><p>“Incorruptible you mean?”</p><p>“Hmm, more because they represent the International Community I think. Both Senegal and Mauritania seek United Nations support in their dispute.”</p><p>“Dammit, I knew things were going too well!” Chris sounded exasperated.</p><p>“What are you going to do Captain?”</p><p>“We’ll see what INTEL, if any, Sheva’s Uncle can provide. I’ll make a decision then.”</p><p>“Perhaps Command will have some info on this company?” suggested Piers.</p><p>“Perhaps, but the way things are, I’m not going to ask them.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because right now, I don’t trust Command’s Intel any more than I trust Green Umbrella. There was a distinct lack of hard intelligence on that last mission. Something in Command is rotten. And according to our controller’s latest communication, it’s on its way here!”</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>The trans-Atlantic flight had been long, and Mason had been tiresome company. Forever whining about his precious BMW and the possible loss of his luxurious lifestyle. Colonel Pritchard had listened with ill disguised disinterest. He would have liked to have shot the man there and then. But he still had his role to play first. Whatever else he was, he was a good tactician. Mason’s insight into Redfield’s modus-operandi would be crucial. And that of Nivans too since he also seemed to be involved. What was it Mason had said about him? 'He prefers to operate alone, from on high.’ Well, if that’s what the Lieutenant preferred, ample opportunity would be provided. Whilst Redfield attempted to perform his usual gung-ho heroics, Nivans would be covering his six. How convenient, they would make the trap themselves. Pritchard laughed.</p><p>He was a tall, patrician looking man, though his personality was anything but noble. Instead it fed on hate and resentment. Now in his late forties and seemingly destined to remain a colonel for ever, he had developed an intense hatred for the founders of the BSAA and Chris Redfield in particular; who he blamed for sidelining his career. Then someone from the wealthy pharmaceutical giant and a major sponsor of the BSAA, Green Umbrella, had made him an offer that he couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t so much the money, rather it was the prospect of power that had attracted him. And the possibility of greatness. He laughed again, and there was the undeniable air of smugness about it.</p><p>Mason heard the laughter drift across the empty seat between them, and joined in, even though he didn’t know what it was for. The Colonel had seemed upset with him earlier. If he was in a good mood now, it might pay to humor him.</p><p>Short, where Pritchard was tall, flabby where thin, Captain Mason wasn’t a foil to his boss. He wasn’t the Laurel to his Hardy, or the Abbott to his Costello. Rather he was a useful, if under-valued tool. But he had an undoubted eye for combat analysis. He would happily review hours of bodycam data from the NAB’s missions, snacking all the while, his eyes darting across the flickering video screen. As a result, he could provide accurate pen-pictures of most of the NAB’s SOU personnel. Their abilities, preferences, tactics. Their strengths, and their weaknesses. In short, he could provide anyone who would listen with psychological profiles on most of the NAB’s active members. Pritchard had listened. Mason was not fit for combat himself, so he lived out his fantasies through the actions of the front-line soldiers. He had a lot of fantasies, as the colonel had discovered, not all of them work related. It made him an easy target for blackmail, as Colonel Pritchard had quickly, and equally easily, demonstrated.</p><p>They were met directly at Dakar’s International Airport by an unmarked Mercedes limousine. Customs formalities were conveniently waived, having been been 'paid for’ prior to their landing. The car, its darkened windows locked and its air conditioning on, took them south, through the city and on to the five star Terrou-Bi hotel.</p><p>In a country where the vast majority lived a hand to mouth existence, a minority contrived to live in luxury and the hotel was one embodiment of that. Set on the ocean front in the fashionable Guele Tapée arrondissement, it boasted a casino, private beach and tropical gardens amongst its other riches. There they were met by the manager of Chimiques Richard Toll, Dr Amadou Diop. He was also Green Umbrella’s head man in Senegal. Colonel Pritchard took to him at once, he could sense a fellow world reformer. Captain Mason formed no immediate opinion. He was preoccupied with finding one of the hotel’s three restaurants, 'Le Gastronomique’, the gourmet one.</p><p>
  <b>***********************</b>
</p><p>“I don’t want to know Sheva! You are putting me in an impossible situation!” her uncle exclaimed. They were arguing over a shared breakfast, and the army commander was now clearly annoyed.</p><p>“I apologize Uncle. It is not intentional. We had no idea that there even was a Green Umbrella facility in Senegal, let alone one in such a sensitive location.”</p><p>“I thought you said it was called Chimiques Richard Toll? What is that to this Green Umbrella?”</p><p>“We think it is a covert research facility, the name is merely a front. Based on what we have seen in the accident at the port of Nouadhibou, we believe they are researching new viruses there. Ones not previously encountered by the BSAA. Aren’t you ashamed Senegal is home to such a facility?”</p><p>“I am ashamed of many things niece. But I need more proof than you and your friend’s beliefs and these non-existent documents you tell me of. I suppose you intend to carry out some sort of clandestine operation? I wish you had never told me. The army cannot be implicated in such a thing.”</p><p>“You wish us to leave?”</p><p>The Commander sighed deeply. “Yes. It would be for the best. Within 24 hours.”</p><p>“Surely you don’t condone what they do?”</p><p>“Sheva! Of course not. But if you desire the army’s assistance, first bring me the proof. Will you accompany this American, Redfield, I suppose?”</p><p>“Yes, we are partners.”</p><p>“You told me before he was hot-headed.”</p><p>“He is. But he is also warm-hearted. He doesn’t care for his position, he cares for what is right.”</p><p>“Are you suggesting I don’t?”</p><p>“I’m sorry Uncle, I meant no offense.”</p><p>“You had better go. I hope he takes care of you, this partner of yours.”</p><p>“And I hope that perhaps one day, you will see the world through his eyes.”</p><p>“Proof Sheva. Bring me the proof.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Chris saw the look on Sheva’s face when she returned to join the others.</p><p>“That bad huh?”</p><p>Sheva nodded. “I am sorry Captain. He demands the evidence we don’t yet have. He wants us to be gone by tomorrow.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault partner. I suspected half as much.” He smiled at her, then held all of them in his eyes. “Well team, it looks like it’s going to be Plan B. Let’s put some flesh on the bones, before we have to leave.”</p><p>
  <strong>************************</strong>
</p><p>Pritchard and Mason were also having a breakfast meeting. “Captain, there’s a report in of a BSAA helicopter in Saint Louis.”</p><p>“How do you know Colonel?”</p><p>“Because unlike you, I listened to Dr Diop over dinner last night, instead of feeding my face! We have been in touch again this morning as we agreed. I’m certain Redfield’s involved.”</p><p>“Do you think he’s on to us?”</p><p>“Probably, he’s not just muscle. It’s too much of a coincidence after that dammed accident at Nouadhibou. What I want to know is will he travel to Richard Toll by car, or use the helicopter?”</p><p>“The helicopter, without question. He values flexibility above all else in these kind of situations. The helicopter gives him that, it has speed, mobility …”</p><p>“Yes, yes, I understand. When?”</p><p>“He’ll move as soon as possible. He hates waiting, he’s impatient. It’s a serious fault.”</p><p>“It certainly is in this case. Then we must move equally fast. I will alert the good Doctor.”</p><p>“Not so good. He’s a pathological liar. And he has his own agenda.”</p><p>“You deduce that from a single meeting? I am impressed.”</p><p>“I also read the classified European Headquarters file on him earlier this morning.”</p><p>“You can access those?”</p><p>“<em>I</em> can. I know you think I do, but I don’t just sit and eat, Colonel. I sit and think. You should try it sometime.”</p><p>Pritchard was shocked, both by the rebuke, and its insightfulness. With his customary arrogance, he’d never considered the possibility that someone else might know him better than he knew himself. “And I took you for a fool.” he murmured.</p><p>“Oh no. I intend to come out of this a hero …” Mason smiled sweetly, as if he’d stated an obvious truth. He continued placidly. “… And then everyone who has ever laughed at me behind my back will pay. And the first one on the list will be a certain Mr Barry Burton.”</p><p>Colonel Pritchard felt a sudden chill pass through his body. He wondered if he was also on Mason’s list. He’d underestimated the flabby-faced Captain sat opposite him. He would have to be more careful in future. Much more careful.</p><p>
  <strong>************************</strong>
</p><p>“That’s it for now Jill. Chris is up to speed on Pritchard and Mason. He’s got a location, some place called Richard Toll, weird name, eh? Oh, and I passed on your regards to all concerned.”</p><p>“I’m worried about Pritchard. I wish there was something we could do, but we’ve no hard evidence. Just supposition.”</p><p>“Hmm, I don’t know. How about Mason and his toys?”</p><p>“He’s just Pritchard’s gopher.”</p><p>“Then why take him to Dakar? If you’re right about Pritchard, Captain Chubby Chops is part of the puzzle too.”</p><p>“Are you ever serious?”</p><p>“Comedy is a serious business, ask any comedian. Look, you can pull some strings as a founder. Ask for an internal audit on Mason. We certainly have the evidence of him leading a surprisingly luxurious lifestyle. That should be enough for starters. And with any luck, it might give us a lead into Pritchard.”</p><p>“So we could then widen the net?”</p><p>“Exactly. Chris mentioned that the INTEL on that last mission was very poor, you said the same. That doesn’t sound like the NAB. Who has access to that INTEL? Who disseminates it to the SOUs? There should be a paper trail, or at least an electronic one, surely?”</p><p>“I can do that.”</p><p>“That’s my girl! Something to get your teeth into apart from a certain agent.”</p><p>“Barry! That’s … that’s personal. How did you get to know?”</p><p>“Ha! I’m not just a pretty face. In fact I’m not even a pretty face, mine’s a more mature visage. People talk to me, 'cos I don’t wear a uniform. Civilians are harmless. You’d be surprised at what people gossip about.”</p><p>“I’d rather not know. How do people get to hear these things? Um, if they were true that is.”</p><p>“Well, my first guess would be your man himself. He’s not shy about self-publicity.”</p><p>“Carlos! I’ll kill him!”</p><p>“Then I’ll do my best to bring him back safely.”</p><p>“Please Barry.”</p><p>“Hey, don’t fret it. Chris will look after him, there’s no need to worry.”</p><p>“It’s not Chris I’m worried about!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Loss of Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chris and his team travel north to the town of Richard Toll, but things get off to a shaky start.  Sheva loses an airfield, Chris loses control, and Piers loses his cool.  Fortunately Carlos is on hand with some friendly advice, but is that necessarily a good thing?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m trying to expand the characterisation of the main players in this chapter.  Sheva is trying to come out from Chris’ shadow and develop her own leadership style, whilst Chris is beginning to realise that he can’t always do things his way.  Piers is slowly revealing more depth, but it takes Carlos, of all people, to peel the layers away.  Despite his predatory sexual nature, Carlos is also trying to be a friend to the inexperienced and prickly sniper during his first outing as a Special Operations Agent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>"I can't see it!"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Your ten o'clock Sheva, that dark brown line, just beyond the scrub, see?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Oh yes, thanks partner, I was expecting something bigger, gray, a proper runway."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"It's a dirt strip, about 5000 ft I guess. Hard to spot, it blends in so well with the desert and dry vegetation."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"It does. I'll try and make contact again . . . Richard Toll Control. Are you receiving me? Over."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>. . .</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Richard Toll Control, Richard Toll Control. This is BSAA helicopter Whiskey Alpha Bravo Seven on southern approach. Do you copy? Over."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>. . .</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Richard Toll . . ."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Alright, alright, I hear you! Can't a man get some peace?" the low growl sounded annoyed.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Peace! Control, this is BSAA helicopter . . ."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time Missy. What do you want?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I would like some co-operation! I am approaching from the south. Four POB. Please advise landing instructions."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Put yourself down anywhere."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I beg your pardon! What are your landing conditions Control? Visibility, surface wind . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"There's no wind here, no clouds, no nothing. The place is empty, pick your spot."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh! Roger that Control!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Call Local when you've landed. No, better still, don't bother. Just call into my office. It's less trouble."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What about Local?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I <em>am</em> Local, and Control, and every other dammed thing. You are talking to Richard Toll Airport, all of it, me! And I tell you something else Missy, this place would operate just damn fine if it wasn't for people like you flying in and out all the time!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris, who had been listening intently, shielded his mic. "Ask him what people Sheva."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sheva asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Helicopters, little black ones, every other week, sometimes every other day. People comin' and goin' to that new place up the road." Control replied testily.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You mean Chimiques Richard Toll?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, that's the one. A man can't get no rest! Anyway, I got no time to chat. Don't forget, call into my office. Bye."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Bye . . . Er, Roger, WAB7 out." Sheva turned to Chris. "I'm sorry Captain, that man was very unprofessional."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris grinned. "Don't apologize. Some Air Force General said the same about me once."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Really! What happened?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I had to leave the Air Force, and he retired to Florida with an ulcer!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh Captain! He, he, he!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Professional or not, what he let slip was interesting."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The helicopter traffic?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, the fact that they're small and black. Ring any bells?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Of course! The Family!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Got it in one!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, despite Control's laid back approach, their landing had not gone unnoticed. A small boy jotted down the helicopter's serial number in his book and observed the four people getting out. Four men, foreigners. No, wait! That one taking their helmet off, it was a young woman, an African. She looked pretty. Dr Diop would pay him handsomely for this information. He ran to his bike and peddled furiously away towards the town, planning how he would spend his reward.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Whilst the others sorted out their kit, it was left to Piers, as the team's driver, to arrange some local transport. Control also happened to be the owner of the airport car hire company. He was a tall man, lean, like many Senegalese. But his look was strangely at odds with his voice, which was deep and gravelly. His earlier growl had now changed to something verging on a belly laugh. Control liked to be amused, especially when money was involved. And it looked like this baby-faced, American sounding flyer, was going to provide lots of amusement. He gestured proudly to the motley collection of dust covered vehicles parked in the shade behind the dilapidated single-story office building. Which, according to the flaking hand-painted sign, was the 'Airport Control Tower'.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A Renault, that's my favorite, only ten years old, two Nissans, I call them Pinky and Perky, on account of their color, the old British jeep, ex-army, or my brother-in-law's Citroën van."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Doesn't he use it?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He can't drive. Your choice, Top Gun. All top quality, lifetime guarantee." the nicotine stained teeth broke into a crooked grin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Piers had already made his choice. Even so, he gave the old open-topped Land Rover a thorough inspection. He wasn't satisfied, it leaked oil from every joint, but it would have to do. He wanted some off-road capability and it was the only vehicle there that offered any.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers crawled out from underneath and dusted himself off. "Hmm, it'll do. Just!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You bring it back in good condition, any scratches and you loose your deposit."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But it's covered in scratches! And dings! How could you possibly tell?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'll know. I gotta'n eye for these things. Now, about some ID."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't have it on me." Piers lied.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Whatever you say Ace." Control held out his hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers grudgingly unfurled a wad of 5000 CFA franc notes from his pocket. "How much?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A hundred thousand,"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What! That's more than the jeep. Fifty."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Eighty."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Seventy."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Seventy five. A hundred with some fuel thrown in."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fuel?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I take it you wanna' go somewhere?" Piers hesitated, unsure how much to tell the man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Control explained simply, as if to a child. "It's empty, an anti-theft precaution. I'll have to syphon it out of the others first."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Syphon?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why do you have to repeat everything I say? I don't have money to burn Fly Boy. There's only one vehicle filled up at a time. Mine. I'll give you enough to get into town." Control spat in his hand and held it out again. Deal?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers looked at the hand. "Like I have a choice?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Nice doin' business with you Ace . . ." said Control amiably, as he carefully counted the notes for a second time. ". . . Now, if you don't mind, I've got an airport to run. Like I told Missy, this place would be a lot easier without visitors."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers quickly saw an opportunity. "Er, could you call me, if you have any more? I'll give you my number."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Control scratched his chin. "A hundred!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What! For a phone call!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The other guy is givin' me the same."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers' ears pricked up immediately. "Oh, what other guy?" he said, trying hard to sound casual.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That'll be another hundred."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Here, take it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dr Diop. He runs that chemical place up the road."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Will you tell him about us?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't have to." Control put his hand out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Let me guess, another hundred."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You sure catch on quick Buzz. No flies on you. Ha, ha! What's the BSAA doing here anyway? You looking for Zombies?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, we're, um, just sightseeing. A liaison visit, you know, cultural exchange."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Whatever you say. Let me know if you do see any zombies though, my mother-in-law could do with the company."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, really?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ha, ha. She sure as hell frightens me. Ok, Captain Sightseer, give me five minutes, whilst I fuel up your jeep. Make yourselves at home."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers looked around at the derelict buildings. "Where?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Anywhere you like, Ace. And since I like you, it's on the house."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Did I do the right thing, Chris?" said Piers, seeking his Captain's approval.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hmm, we'll have to see. You've either bought us a forewarning of trouble, or shown our hand early."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I couldn't ignore it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Well, I wouldn't trust him!" Carlos stated flatly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's good, coming from you!" Chris glared at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, he might be lousy at running an airfield, but there is usually some honor in dealings of this kind. Otherwise no one would trust anyone, and no money would be made." Sheva explained. "I think you made the right choice Piers." She smiled at him supportively, but Piers looked downcast. He'd really wanted his Captain's praise, and he hadn't got it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Here you go Ace . . ." Control threw the ignition keys over to Piers. ". . . you bring her back full mind. There's a gas station on the way into town, my brother runs it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The one with the van?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, another one. You can't miss it, it's the only one. Oh, check the oil too."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And the water and air in the tires I suppose." Piers replied sarcastically.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Heh, heh, you got it Ace. Nice doin' business with you. Remember now, no scratches!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Jajaja, he called you Ace. You two nice and friendly?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Carlos, shut the fuck up!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Jajaja!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers drove the Land Rover up alongside the helicopter. As he and Carlos began transferring their gear, Sheva drew Chris aside.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You were a little hard on him back there Captain."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You think?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's inexperienced, he's wants to impress you, you could have seemed a little more grateful."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He showed our interest in this Chimiques place. That will get back to this Dr Diop character, surely?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We don't know. But we now have a name, and we'll know if anyone else arrives here. Those are both pluses Chris. You should thank him. You are his partner too."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What are you saying?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I recognize the look in his eyes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Look, it's complicated . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"On the contrary Captain. It's very easy to fall in love with you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What do you mean?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I have said too much already. Let us go and help the others. I don't want anything important left on that helicopter. And I want it immobilized before we leave."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Leave that to me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, do it with Piers. You must teach him Chris, or risk loosing him altogether."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris put his hand on her arm as she walked away. "Thanks partner."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You have a new partner now Chris, but it would be an honor to call you my friend."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris smiled a rare smile. "Always ." then "Ace, on me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers ran over. "Ace?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris grinned. "I thought you didn't want to be called West-Point anymore? Besides, you gotta' have a nickname, everyone on Able does. Ace sounds good to me. What do you think?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I, I think it sounds great, coming from you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ace it is then. Now, do you know anything about disabling helicopters?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, short of blowing them up."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then let me teach you . . . you don't wanna' do anything mechanical. It's the electrics you go for, small stuff, like fuses. And don't forget to take the spare ones too. Remember, your opponent might be cleverer than you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Surely not." said Piers it sarcastically, but the look of admiration shone in his eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris caught the gleam and grinned again. "Now pay attention Ace, most birds have an electronics bay somewhere, usually it's located under the cockpit floor . . . Ah, here we go. These are called Dzus fasteners, They're spring loaded, quarter-turn fasteners. You can open them with a large flat screwdriver, or any handy coin. Like this, see . . . ?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The bicycle skidded to a halt outside the gate in the chain link fence. The guard recognized the rider and let him in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What you got today little one?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's a secret, only for the Doctor."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ha, ha, you and your secrets. Nothing ever happens here. Besides, I'm not sure if he's in. I'll tell him for you if you like."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No! It's my secret, no one else's!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ok, Ok, but you got to get past that secretary of his. She's a mean woman, like a Lion Queen. Be careful little one, she might eat you up!" The guard curled his fingers up into claws, and snarled. "Rraww! Ha, ha, ha!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Pah, you don't scare me, and neither does she. You'll see, just you wait!" The boy pedaled on through at top speed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The guard, however, was right on both counts. Dr Diop was not in, and the secretary was indeed ferocious.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's not here I tell you! Leave your message with me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No! If I do that, I won't get paid. I'll wait."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not in this office! I'm not having you make it look untidy! Come back tomorrow!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It may be too late by then. Give me his phone number."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's busy. And I'm not risking my job for you! Go away little one!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You don't frighten me Sarabi!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What did you just call me?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He said it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Who?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It will cost you . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Land Rover pulled into the forecourt of the little gas station, avoiding the chickens that ran about the forecourt, grubbing in the weeds and dirt. A tall, lean man stepped out of the building. He bore a strong familial resemblance to 'Control'.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fill her up . . . please." said Piers, remembering to practice being friendly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You fill her up. See that handle on the pump? You wind it and the fuel comes out."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, alright then. I just met your brother."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I know. This is his jeep. You were robbed. I could have done you a better deal."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I didn't know. He didn't say you had vehicles for hire too."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He wouldn't."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Um, next time perhaps. Do you have any oil?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sure."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"For the transmission"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I know what it's for. That old thing leaks like a sieve. American huh?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, er, Canadian."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Where from?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Um, Toronto."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I got family in Montreal. You know it?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not well. I hear it's a nice place."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's what my sister says. Just that it's always cold."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. Not like here then."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, not like here. You open the bonnet, I'll go get the oil."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thank you. About two liters should do it I guess."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'll bring four."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris called out from the front of the jeep. "Canadian eh? Never offer information Ace. Good call on the oil though. Always look after your wheels."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I've never had a Canadian." said a laughing voice from the back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sheva punched Carlos hard in the shoulder. "Shut up, maggot!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Captain Mason looked up from his mid-morning 'snack'. "Well?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He says it's best that we wait here. Tch!" Colonel Pritchard was clearly not a happy man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason gulped down another mouthful, wiping the grease from his lips with the back of his flabby hand. "Why?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't know why! Something about being prepared. I thought you might tell me, it's why you're here."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's probably lying."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, I gathered that . . ." Pritchard replied sarcastically. ". . . but what's his real motive? I told him Redfield's impetuous, like you said. It didn't seem to register. He just smiled and said everything would work out perfectly."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I told you he has his own agenda."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, you did. Now, if you could stop stuffing your face for a minute, perhaps you can tell me what it is."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Captain took a final, defiant, mouthful, taking a minute to lick his fat fingers clean afterwards. "Mmm, self preservation would be my guess. He likes to keep one step ahead of trouble. If our dashing Captain Muscles is planning some sort of attack, and soon, your friend the Doctor will want to be somewhere else."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But I need to be there!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then make use of your, uh, connections."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What connections?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"All those meeting in private clubs and discrete dinning rooms I drove you to. I told you, I'm not stupid. That wasn't Green Umbrella now, was it? Not their style, not flashy enough."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes it was! Not that's it's any dammed business of yours!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah, anger. You're lying again Colonel, I can always tell."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard drew himself up to his full height. "I would advise you to get ready to leave Captain, now!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Where are we going?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The Green Umbrella facility in Richard Toll, with or without the assistance of Dr Amadou Diop."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What about lunch?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Order to go!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris was talking to the others as they sat in the small rental apartment Sheva had scouted out. They'd paid as much for the landlord's silence as for the weeks rent. But it was in a quiet, residential neighborhood on the western edge of the town, and the Land Rover could be parked safely out of sight in an enclosed compound. The chemical plant lay outside of the town's border, about a mile further west.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I think we should go in tonight. We've probably lost the element of surprise, so why wait?" He'd stated it simply, he hadn't expect any dissension, least of all from Carlos.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And give them exactly what they want. No Badass, they'll be waiting for us. I know how those assholes in Umbrella Security think."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers nodded. "I hate to say it Chris, but Carlos is right. If we wait, a couple of days, three perhaps, it will put them on the back foot. We will regain that element of surprise."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, Peers is correct, and perhaps we should go in the day, not the night. Another surprise."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris wasn't convinced. "Hmm, I don't know. What do you think Sheva? It's two against one at the moment. Are you against me too?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's not like that Chris. I want what's best for the BSAA. If we are going to destroy the facility and expose Green Umbrella we have to be thorough . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The longer we wait, the more prepared they'll be. Using the helicopter has probably given us away."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But Chris, that was your idea. Remember?" Sheva wasn't afraid to say it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dammit to hell!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Let me lay up somewhere Chris, keep them under observation. I can set up a hide, then note the comings and goings, numbers of staff, shift patterns, etc. Do they run 24/7, or just in the day? Stuff like that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, is a good idea mi amigo. He is much more than a pretty face, this foxy boy of yours."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They're both right Chris."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fuck it, fuck it! Ok, I accept your argument. But three days max, no more! We'll take the observation in two teams. Piers, you pair up with Mop-Top, Sheva, you're with me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Captain?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Now what Sheva?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What did we discuss, earlier?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah, yes . . . earlier." Chris muttered contritely. "Alright, team, change of plan, I'll partner you Ace. Will you be alright with Mop-Top, Sheva?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't worry about me Chris. It's Señor Maggot you should be concerned for. He, he!" Sheva laughed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ay, mis pobres cojones! Capitán, por favor, I beg you . . . !"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jill was hunched over her computer, lost in concentration. She didn't hear Barry enter.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Penny for your thoughts."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, Barry! Sorry, I was miles away. This is hopeless! If anyone has been covering their tracks over missing INTEL, they've done it well. I've hacked my way through so many firewalls, but still no joy."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey, if our Supercop can't do it, no one can . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What did you just call me? Only two people call me that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I must have heard Chris say it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I know he likes nicknames, most of Able Team have three or four each, but that one is personal. No, it wasn't him. Let me guess . . . Carlos?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Um, and now most of the canteen . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"When he's back here safe and sound, I'm going to kill him!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He, he, there's feminine logic for you!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Barry Burton! Heh, heh, heh! It does sound kinda' crazy . . . Most of the canteen?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fraid so. Still, it's good to see you smile Jill. So, what's the problem? Can I help?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Every message I particularly want to trace has been deleted. I can't get a working trail. I need to be able to follow a signal through, but there's just too many holes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then make one up."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Create a false INTEL input, something you think will interest our person or persons unknown, and follow that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But they'll know it originates from me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Can you get Chris' authentication codes?" Jill nodded. "Just seeing his name will grab their attention."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, Mr Burton, I could kiss you! Why didn't I think of that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Cos' you're tired. When's the last time you ate?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yesterday, I think."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then let's do lunch, now. We can think up some suitable content, and you can set it running this afternoon, refreshed and rarin' to go."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That sound's like a plan. But not that diner!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"How 'bout the Canteen then?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No! I'm not giving them any more gossip!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Er, you're not suggesting somewhere expensive are you?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, yes please!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I was afraid you'd say that." Barry shook his head sadly. "My girls, they'll ruin me, I was saying to Moira just the other day . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Moira? How is she?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't ask! Boyfriend trouble!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Boyfriend?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Mmm, that's what I thought. She told me she's experimenting."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That ring of yours, it's very nice, Army?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, er, it's a Marine Corp ring." Piers automatically touched the gold ring, protectively. He and Carlos were stood out in the compound by the side of jeep, deciding what equipment they would need for Piers' hide.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But Badass calls you West Point, that's American Army, right?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, it is. It's where I trained."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So what's with the Marine thing?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's personal."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That stone, so red. It's like a drop of blood."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Carlos, don't! Please?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ok Amigo, but a word of advice."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Again?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos shrugged. "It's a gift. Listen, around here, a man will chop your finger off for a ring like that. You know what I mean? Don't wear it where people can see it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I, I don't know. Like I said, it's personal. Very personal."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then wear it around your neck. On your dog-tag chain perhaps? Just keep it out of sight. You understand?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, I suppose I could. I hadn't thought about it. Thanks Carlos, I mean that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey, we're amigos . . . aren't we?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I guess. Look, I'm sorry, about before, when I hit you . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ay, it just was a love tap!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"See! There you go again. There was nothing in it. How many more times?" Piers flushed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Because you come alive when you're angry! Look at you now. Color in your cheeks, your eyes flashing, nostrils flared. Que guapo! Don't keep your blood stone on your finger Amigo, keep it over your heart."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's there as well."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah, so it was a he. Now I understand, before you met your Captain, eh? Young love."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Shut up!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No my friend, it's better to talk. Don't bottle things up like Badass does, live them, love them, hate them, whatever you want, but talk about them."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers swallowed hard. He knew this was going to be difficult. He also knew Carlos was right. The Latin had a way of drawing things out of him, things he hadn't even told Chris. "I was young, in my teens. I met someone whilst surfing, a marine. He would have loved all this." Piers gestured to their gear.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos smiled sympathetically. "Tell me about him . . .”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. T-Gemini</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chris and his team of Piers, Sheva and Carlos are now set up in Richard Toll, Senegal, observing a chemical plant they suspect is producing bio weapons for Green Umbrella.  Back at BSAA NAB Headquarters, Jill and Barry are working to discover the extent to which the pharmaceutical company has penetrated the BSAA using rogue officer Colonel Pritchard who has gone to Senegal with his aide, Captain Mason.  </p><p>In this chapter, Chris wants a smoke, he also wants Piers, but the answer is “No!” to both.  Jill and Barry uncover more secrets within the NAB, whilst Pritchard and Mason arrive in Richard Toll.  And plant manager, Dr Diop, puts on a clean white coat, but who for?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Any luck?” asked Barry as he pulled up a swivel chair next to Jill’s console.</p><p>“Yes and no.”</p><p>“What’s the ‘yes’ bit?”</p><p>“Well, I did what you said, created a false INTEL message …”</p><p>“So what’s the problem?”</p><p>“Chris’ authentication. It’s changed.”</p><p>“Ok, he changed it. Can’t you hack it?”</p><p>“That’s what I’m trying to do. But you don’t understand. He’s notorious for his poor comms. Everything from procedures to protocols … In fact he’s not very good at communicating period.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>"And, he never changes his password. It’s been REDWING ever since I’ve known him.”</p><p>“Isn’t he meant to use alphanumerics and symbols and stuff?”</p><p>“This is Chris we’re talking about!”</p><p>“Ah, yes. Perhaps he changed it in the field?”</p><p>“Agents can’t, not whilst they’re active. If they try to, it means they’ve been compromised.”</p><p>“And Chris isn’t compromised cos I talked to him yesterday. He was pissed though.”</p><p>“About playing a waiting game.”</p><p>“Yeah, patience is not one of his virtues, like procedures and protocols I guess. So, what does it mean then? This password change?”</p><p>“It means it’s someone here, in our own COMMS.”</p><p>“How many people is that?”</p><p>“There are half a dozen operator consoles, normally there’s only two or three in operation at any one time, more if we have big operations running. Three shifts a day, so twenty or so operators in all, max.”</p><p>“That’s a lot to check out. Six would have been easier.”</p><p>“Six, six … Why, the consoles, of course! Oh Barry, bless you!”</p><p>“Light bulb moment?”</p><p>“I think so. Let me just check.” Jill scrolled up the screen in front of her. “Bingo! This says Chris’ message was sent from AMHS zero six.”</p><p>“Uh? In English please.”</p><p>“It stands for Automated Message Handling System. Each console has a unique id, it’s, er, base number. It always appears as the first line of the message format … It’s machine coded, hard wired.”</p><p>“So it can’t be changed?”</p><p>“Exactly! And no one ever bothers to read it, because it’s not important. It’s purely functional.”</p><p>“Until now. You want me to help investigate?”</p><p>“No, they won’t take to a lone civilian prying around down there. It’s a sensitive area at the best of times. But you can accompany me. Sort’ve a witness. They’re gonna’ get a visit from Major Valentine in full bitch-mode.”</p><p>“He, he. They won’t stand a chance!”</p><p>“Barry!”</p><p>“Take it as a compliment.”</p><p>“I’ll take it as another expensive lunch! C'mon, we’ll pick up the Master at Arms along the way.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Chris was indeed 'pissed’. He grumbled loudly as he wriggled down next to Piers in the hide.</p><p>“Shh!” scolded the sniper.</p><p>“Don’t 'Shh’ me! Who’s gonna hear us?”</p><p>“That’s the whole point … !” Piers whispered. “… You never know who might be about.”</p><p>“It’s a hide, Piers! As in hidden.” Chris carried on grumbling.</p><p>And to be fair, Piers had made an excellent job. He had constructed the hide in an abandoned plot that ran down to reed beds bordering an irrigation canal. The channel separated the access road from the chemical plant itself. The whole area was crisscrossed with watercourses and small reservoirs that fed the rice fields beyond the out of town industrial area. The biggest problem was the smell. The canal carried various liquids other than water, and the plot had also been used by numerous goats for shelter and grazing since it had been left derelict years before.</p><p>The reek from the water was stomach churning enough, but the stench from the goats was almost overpowering. It pervaded everything and everyone. Clothes, equipment, hair, skin. Chris had been hoping that lying close to Piers would relieve some of the tension he had been feeling. But the young sniper had slipped into his ultra-professional mode. Whilst Piers was scoping the plant opposite, Chris tried to slip one hand down the back of Piers’ pants.</p><p>“Don’t even think about it! You said it yourself, not during Ops.”</p><p>“I know what I said Piers! It’s just that lying next to you here, close up … well, it’s different.”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“Screw you!” Chris withdrew his hand reluctantly .</p><p>“Look, I wish you could, but not here, not now. I shouldn’t need to remind you. You’re the one meant to be instructing me. Remember?”</p><p>“You arrogant little shit!”</p><p>“Yup, and you love it.” Piers smirked.</p><p>“Fuck! That just makes me want you all the more.”</p><p>“You can’t come quietly, can you?”</p><p>“You know I can’t.”</p><p>“Shame, that crosses out playing with yourself then. Guess you’ll just have to concentrate on the job in hand, heh, heh.”</p><p>“Bastard! Christ, I could do with a smoke!”</p><p>“No! You promised me, not on duty.”</p><p>“I only meant a cigarette! Jeez, gimme’ a break Piers!”</p><p>“It’s hard for me too Chris. I want you so bad.”</p><p>“You always do.”</p><p>“Not like this, not with passion. Carlos was right, it is better now.”</p><p>“Better than what?”</p><p>“Lust, carnal desire, I dunno’ what to call it … the physicality of it all. It was a selfish love before, I was selfish, I admit it … Now, well, it’s different, like I’ve moved on, grown up. That’s why this is so important to me …”</p><p>“This? Stuck in some stinking shithole, afraid to speak, to touch.”</p><p>“It could be anywhere in this world, it wouldn’t change things. What’s important to me is that we’re together. You by my side, teaching me, you, the legendary Chris Redfield. And we’re in love, right?”</p><p>Chris twisted sideways, shifting his weight off his painfully stiffening dick. “Agh, yeah, believe it.” He leant in, lips puckering up for a kiss.</p><p>Piers put his forefinger up against the stubbled jaw. “Later, let’s keep things professional.”</p><p>“Aww, just one kiss. Give my boner something!”</p><p>“What part of 'No’ don’t you understand?”</p><p>“Fuck you!”</p><p>Piers grinned. “You can, I promise. But later, when we’re off watch!”</p><p>Piers knew if he gave in now it would compromise their observation. He also realized Chris needed to be gainfully occupied. Fortunately, a car was now approaching the plant gates.</p><p>“Contact! Write this down. White Peugeot, um, a 504, two POB, license plate Sierra Lima three four … Damn! It’s gone.”</p><p>Chris noted the down details and time. “SL, that’s Saint Louis. You should use the binos, give you a wider field of view.”</p><p>“I prefer using my scope. If I’m gonna’ shoot something, I’ll be doing it with that, not binoculars.”</p><p>“Piers, we’re just observing. Who you gonna’ shoot?”</p><p>“You, if you can’t learn to keep quiet!”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei.”</p><p>“And so the pupil became the teacher.” Piers smirked, as he peered once more through his scope.</p><p>Chris placed his hand back on Piers’ butt. “Still a few things I can teach you Ace …”</p><p>“Quick, get this down! Lorry, a blue Volvo, Transport Sahel …”</p><p>“Fuck it!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>To say Jill made an entrance into the communications center would not do it justice. Flanked by a burly Barry Burton on one side, and an equally burly Master at Arms on the other, Jill made a bee-line for the sixth AMHS console at the end of the room. A tall corporal operator glanced up from the screen, clearly annoyed at the intrusion. He looked at Jill with disdain.</p><p>“You! Corporal!”</p><p>“Major?” he raised a carefully plucked eyebrow.</p><p>“Come with me!” As the young man stood up, Jill thought he looked vaguely familiar. It was his hair, styled in an immaculate quiff with shaded sides. That and the insolent roll of his eyes as he’d first answered her. Nivans! He reminded her of Piers Nivans.</p><p>“Er, now Ma'am? I am kinda’ busy.” A petulant pout and heavy sarcasm as he gestured to the AMHS. He pushed all of Jill’s buttons and she exploded, grabbing his lapels and pulling his face down to within an inch of hers.</p><p>“Now soldier! Don’t make me say it again. You, No. 4, take over this man’s tasks. Use your own console, this one is not to be touched. Understood?”</p><p>A shocked face nodded nervously.</p><p>“Master at Arms, get a man in here at the double, make sure no one touches this console.”</p><p>The sergeant snapped a salute. “Right away Ma'am.” As he called up on his radio he smiled, things hadn’t been this exciting in ages.</p><p>“Right, you can handover now.” The lanky corporal bent down to talk to No.4.</p><p>“No whispering! Say whatever you’ve got to say out loud!” Jill’s command was greeted with another eye-roll, and she fought back the urge to knock the man out cold there and then.</p><p>The handover given, the master at arms marched the corporal to an interview room whilst Jill and Barry followed a ways behind.</p><p>“How you gonna’ approach this Supercop?”</p><p>“Like most things, directly.”</p><p>“Oh Lord! I almost feel sorry for the guy. Shouldn’t he be presumed innocent?”</p><p>“You saw the way he looked at me. He had guilty written all over his face! He’s had his chance.”</p><p>“You sound just like Chris.”</p><p>“We were partners for a long time. It was bound to rub off on him.”</p><p>“He, he, and I thought it was the other way round.”</p><p>“I hear there’s a new French Restaurant opened in town. It’s très chic and très cher …”</p><p>“Ok, Ok, I’m on your side! Remember, eh?”</p><p>“Alright, I’ll try. Look, you’d better wait outside. I suppose I’ll have to do this by the book.” Jill sounded somewhat exasperated. “Give me five minutes with him.”</p><p>“As long as that?”</p><p>“I don’t want to rush it. This could be the hard evidence we need to start investigating Colonel Pritchard.”</p><p>“That’s my girl, go get him!”</p><p>It actually took Jill fifteen minutes, which was still impressive. As she came out of the interview room, she was doing up the top two buttons of her uniform blouse. Barry did a double take.</p><p>“Jill?”</p><p>“I had to come on strong.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“He was suitably terrified.”</p><p>“Terrified? Most men would … Um, sorry, forget I said that.”</p><p>“Barry! Anyway, it turns out he’s not like most men. Well, not the heterosexual ones.”</p><p>“You mean?”</p><p>“Yes. He and Captain Mason had this fantasy role-play thing going on. They would watch illegally copied SOA combat videos and er, well, fantasize.  Together. Our Corporal from COMMS was Piers …”</p><p>“Hence the hair and attitude.”</p><p>“… Exactly! Mason was, um, he was Chris. Pritchard found out somehow and has been coercing the pair of them ever since.”</p><p>“Mason? That chubby little guy as Chris? Ha, ha, ha!”</p><p>“It’s not funny Barry! Heh, heh, well, I suppose it is.”</p><p>“Don’t worry Jill, it could have been worse.”</p><p>“Worse? How do you mean?”</p><p>“One of them could have been role-playing as you.”</p><p>“Très Chic and très, très cher!”</p><p>“Hey, today’s been priceless. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>“Ngh … Uhh!” With a final thrust and an animal-like grunt, Chris climaxed deep inside Piers. Sucking in lungfuls of air, Chris’ body lay locked with his partner’s until he felt himself begin to soften, when he slowly withdrew. Tired and spent, he smiled wordlessly as he lay down alongside the sniper. Then he closed his eyes, and in six long, measured breaths, was sound asleep.</p><p>Piers kissed the sweat-soaked head lying next to his and sighed.</p><p>“So much for passion. You’ve got a lot to learn Captain, we both have. I know we’ll get there, but not now, not here. We need a reset in our relationship. A holiday together, home perhaps? Yes! When this is over, that’s exactly what we’ll do …” He kissed the unruly brown hair once again. “… I want you on my arm when we visit San Francisco. And no arguments!”</p><p>It had been decided that Sheva and Carlos would share the night shift. It allowed Sheva time to shop locally in the day. Chris was keen to avoid arousing any suspicion, and Carlos was able to accompany Sheva without attracting too much attention. The Captain and his Lieutenant, however, were more of a problem. They quickly established a routine of traveling to and from the hide under cover of darkness, and remaining in the apartment during the day. There, they would cook enough food for themselves and the others, sleep, and make love.</p><p>They would also go over each shift’s sightings. It was apparent that, after the first day, the number of guards and the frequency of foot patrols, had doubled. Chris had expected this, it was why he hadn’t been keen on waiting in the first place. But they would have to accept the situation for what it was now.</p><p>On the morning of the second day, a black Mercedes saloon left the plant. It returned an hour later, carrying two passengers. Around the same time, Piers’ cellphone vibrated. It was 'Control’.</p><p>“Hello there Ace. Thought you’d like to know one of those little blackbirds arrived today. Two passengers, Canadians, just like you. Ha, ha! One stayed inside till Diop’s Mercedes arrived. The other one got out, a fat little guy, and asked if I’d got anything to eat. I sold him my lunch.”</p><p>“Any names?”</p><p>“No. The fat guy gave your chopper the once over, then they just got in the Merc and drove off.”</p><p>“What about their bird?”</p><p>“She flew away south for the winter. Ha, ha, ha!”</p><p>“Did you tell him about us?”</p><p>“He didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer. That’s got to be worth something, right?”</p><p>“Let me guess, another thousand?”</p><p>“No flies on you Buzz … Be seeing you, don’t forget my money.” There was a click and the call went dead.</p><p>Chris looked enquiringly at Piers. “Visitors?”</p><p>“Yes, almost certainly. Did you get a good look at that Merc?”</p><p>“A back window was open, two pax, caucasian. But I didn’t get a positive ID.”</p><p>“Probably Pritchard and Mason.”</p><p>“I’d bet on it.”</p><p>“So what now?”</p><p>“We go in, simple as that.”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“ASAP. Phone Carlos, get them to pick us up in the jeep. Meantime we’ll pack up here.” Chris sat up and started gathering equipment</p><p>“Surely we need to discuss it first? Sheva and Carlos will have their own ideas.”</p><p>Chris bridled at the thought. “This isn’t some kind of Democracy we’re in here, Piers. It’s a military operation with a chain of command.”</p><p>“You agreed to wait.”</p><p>“And now the waiting’s over.  <em>I’m</em> the team leader, it’s <em>my</em> decision.” Chris’ emphasis was presented as a fact, not something up for negotiation.</p><p>“You don’t have to make it alone.”</p><p>“You got a lot to learn Ace, about field work, about command …”</p><p>“About you?”</p><p>Chris spread his arms wide. “What you see is what you get. If you don’t like it …”</p><p>“No, I don’t like it …” the sniper shook his head.</p><p>“Huh?” Chris was momentarily stunned.</p><p>Piers face broke into a grin. “… I love it.”</p><p>“You little shit!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Pritchard and Mason’s helicopter flight from Dakar to Richard Toll had taken about two hours; following a dog-leg route over land rather than flying direct. The 'Family’ pilot, ex-military, preferred to take his chances on terra firma should he need to put down in an emergency. There was very little Search and Rescue cover over the North Atlantic ocean in this part of the world. If you went down in the sea, the odds were you’d stay there, providing dinner for the sharks.</p><p>Colonel Pritchard had chaffed at the time taken for the flight. But Captain Mason had peered in awe out of the cabin window all the while, like a small schoolboy being taken on a special treat. His only concern was that his expectation of finding a good restaurant at their destination receded the further north they flew. The towns and villages got smaller and seemingly more remote mile by mile. He consoled himself with the thought that, whatever else he was, Dr Amadou Diop seemed a cultured man. Surely he would have access to a good chef at the chemical plant?</p><p>He would have asked the Colonel for his views on the subject, but Pritchard was maintaining an air of silence. Possibly because he had nothing to say, but probably because he didn’t wish to be analyzed by his aide. Mason tried to engage the pilot in conversation. But he too seemed unwilling to talk, remaining anonymous behind his reflective Ray-Ban Aviators. Mason shrugged his shoulders. These 'Family’ employees were always the same. They were paid extremely well to be both professional, and discrete.</p><p>So the Captain simply enjoyed the view, and wondered what they would have for dinner. And when he wasn’t doing that, he wondered how Captain Redfield would be coping with the heat. He was a big, powerful man, he would surely be sweating a lot in these temperatures. Mason licked his lips at the thought, and conjured up the smell of perspiration and musk. Mmm, no wonder Nivans was smitten. And thinking of Nivans then made him think of Gary. He wondered what the lanky corporal was up to at this minute. He wished Gary had chosen someone else to role-play. Nivans’ character was so … so unemotional. Like a machine, precise, perfect, predictable. So unlike his Captain … and yet there was undeniably something between them, a magic, as his analysis of their combat videos had hinted at. Like the magic he enjoyed with the laconic corporal. Mason sighed, he missed Gary. And he missed his lunch!</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Dr (of medicine) Amadou Diop changed in his second floor office at Chimiques Richard Toll. He carefully placed the gray jacket of his Armani suit over it’s padded hanger, making sure that the sleeves were hanging straight and that the collar was not crumpled. He was a methodical man, things had to be 'just so’. Equally carefully, he then removed the spotless white laboratory coat from it’s own hanger and put it on, making sure his shirt tie was still knotted perfectly, and that there was a freshly pressed handkerchief in the breast pocket of the coat. Nothing patterned or showy, just premium quality shot silk. Today, it was an iridescent blue and silver one.</p><p>He picked up the slim, buff colored folder lying on top of the mahogany desk. He ran his fingers over the highly polished reddish-brown wood with a sense of pride and personal achievement. The little boy from a family of goatherders, from a <em>boma</em>, had done well. He deserved it.  <em>Acajou </em>the wood was called in the local dialect.  <em>Khaya</em> <em>Anthoteca</em> to give it it’s proper scientific name, which was the one he preferred to use. Latin was the language of science after all.</p><p>Inside the folder were four photographs. One of them was of Colonel Pritchard, who had supplied the images himself. Another was of his aide, Captain Mason. What an odd couple they made, and how inconvenient that they should arrive at such a crucial stage in his research. He tutted. The accident in Nouadhibou had been more than unfortunate. It had precipitated the arrival of these buffoons from the BSAA. And now he felt he was at the wrong end of his own microscope, that he was the one under investigation.  He had perfected an airborne version of the C-virus for Green Umbrella. Admittedly it had some operational limitations at present, but that was the nature of research. It would improve. What more did they expect? But project T-Gemini, that was his, and his alone.</p><p>He took his private lift down to the lowest level, four floors below ground, and walked the short distance to the nursery. Nodding briefly to the two guards standing outside, he passed through the heavy steel door into the private suite.</p><p>Once inside he immediately dismissed the nanny. “Take your lunch now please, Yole.” The old woman nodded silently and left. He walked into the nursery room and the two children ran to him excitedly. “Papa, Papa! Are you staying? Will you read to us today?” They spoke in unison, as they often did.</p><p>He hugged them both. Thomas and Thérèse, genetic twins. Five years old now, the love of his life, and the crowning achievement of his career.</p><p>“Yes, I will read to you my little ones. But first, I have something important to show you. We have visitors, important men all the way from America.” He opened the buff folder. “See, here are their photographs.”</p><p>The children looked at the two photos. “They look so funny, Papa.” said Thomas.</p><p>“Yes.” Thérèse agreed. “One so tall and one so fat! Teh-heh!” She giggled infectiously along with her brother. Diop couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>“You will be on your best behavior if you should meet them.” he said with mock severity.</p><p>The children nodded eagerly, their mahogany-brown eyes bright with anticipation. “Oh yes Papa, we will.” They loved having visitors. They didn’t have many, apart from Papa Diop himself, and their nannies and guards.</p><p>“You promise?”</p><p>“Of course. Now, will you read us a story?”</p><p>“Patience you two, wait a minute! I haven’t finished yet. There are two other men. Bad men, <em>very </em>bad men. If you see them, you know what to do?”</p><p>The children nodded again, but this time in silence. Their faces had suddenly grown cold.</p><p>Dr Diop took out the remaining photographs from the folder and passed them over. Thomas and Thérèse scrutinized them closely. One was of Chris Redfield, the other was Piers Nivans. In the windowless nursery, the children’s eyes glowed red with hatred.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Rat Trap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chris and his team are determined to assault the Green Umbrella chemical plant in Richard Toll, Senegal; but they are expected.  Will they find themselves caught like rats in a trap?  Or worse, experimented on, like one of Dr Diop’s own laboratory rats?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dr Diop only gave the two BSAA officers a brief tour of the plant after they had arrived. He appeared tense, and concentrated solely on the research laboratories and production areas for the new variant C-virus. He knew they wouldn't be interested in the legitimate areas of chemical production. And of course, the fourth floor below ground was totally off limits. In fact, he ignored the existence of another floor entirely. But Captain Mason had seen the extra button in the lift they had used earlier, seen the adjacent stairs seemingly disappearing into nowhere. He made no comment, Diop would have lied anyway, but he nodded and looked thoughtful in all the appropriate places as the white-coated Doctor showed them hurriedly around.</p><p>Diop had good reason to be nervous, several in fact. Colonel Pritchard had spoken to him about the suspected presence of rogue BSAA agents in Richard Toll, that they would most likely seek to infiltrate the plant, and probably disrupt its activities. The colonel was also asking awkward questions about the operational effectiveness of the latest C-virus variant. And last, but not least, there was Thomas and Thérèse to worry about . . .</p><p>"Can we see a demonstration?" Pritchard's arrogant voice cut through Diop's thoughts.</p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>"I'm sorry, what did you say?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We would like to see a demonstration of direct injection with your new variant. Can you do that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, but . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good. I assume you have something to test it on?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, yes. We have a range of animals we experiment with. The laboratory is over here." Diop pointed the way . . .</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As a technician prepared the test subject, a large white rat, the doctor took out a padded box containing a twenty or so vials of the virus. Pritchard took one out and held it up to the light. It glowed with a bright red light, like blood. "Perfect . . ." he murmured.  Whilst Diop assisted the technician and Mason peered curiously at the rat, now inside a sealed test cabinet, Pritchard quickly pocketed the vial. ". . . perfect." He chuckled smugly. Whatever Diop's hidden agenda might be, his own was going perfectly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The rat seemed to look at Mason. It had bright, hazel colored eyes with long, fine lashes. It wrinkled its nose at him. Mason touched the toughened glass front of the cabinet. "Gary?" he whispered to himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"As you can see, the test subject is held in these clamps, and the virus is introduced by the injector here." Diop indicated.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What's that thing, on the other side of the cabinet? Is it a food dispenser?" It was the first question Mason had asked during the tour, he was feeling hungry again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diop rolled his eyes. "Er, not quite. It dispenses cyanide gas. We never know what form the mutation will take, or how violent the reaction. A high speed camera films the initial transformation phase. Then the subject is immediately terminated."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What! You're going to kill it?" Mason was aghast.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Idiot! What do you think he's going to do with it, serve it breakfast?" Pritchard snarled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The technician handed them all hazmat suits and full-face masks. "Just a precaution." said Diop pleasantly, enjoying the look of discomfort on the men's faces. "Is everything ready?" The technician gave a thumbs up from his position on the control console. "On my mark then, three, two, one . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a slight whirr as the injector moved forward, followed immediately by a squeak of pain from the rat. It's face seemed to crumple before their eyes, the features melting into a fleshy mass, only to re-emerge, altered and out of place. The bright, shiny eyes had been replaced by three pairs of white, opaque, light receptors, the mouth had enlarged to accommodate the two long tusks that had replaced the main incisors. The body too, was transforming, from gleaming white fur to a sickening mass of grey flesh and pulsing body organs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason recoiled in horror, but Pritchard looked on closely in fascination and wonder. "Perfect."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the rat continued to mutate, there was a second whirr, followed by a hiss as the cyanide was released into the cabinet. The tortured rat tore itself free from the clamp, biting off one of it's own forelegs to achieve freedom. It threw itself at the glass front of the cabinet, seeming to stare at its tormentors, it's body now a gory mass of suppurating flesh. The creature convulsed once, twice, then burst into flames. A fiery, incandescent cloud of embers hung in the air briefly, then were gone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Even Pritchard was shocked. "W, what just happened?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They usually do that, self-immolate on death." Diop said calmly. "Interestingly, they occasionally they mutate into a chrysalid form, and require further assistance in termination. We're looking into that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Staring at the now empty cabinet, Mason no longer felt hungry. In fact he was struggling not to regurgitate his last meal. He couldn't get the image of his Gary's face, distorting and mutating, out of his mind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard, however, had soon recovered his poise. "Fascinating Doctor. Now, I would like to brief your security personnel." He turned to his aide. "Mason . . . " but the Captain didn't appear to hear him. Pritchard lost his patience. ". . . Dammit man! Close your mouth, and come with me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diop watched the two soldiers go. At Pritchard's suggestion, he had agreed to let the BSSA men take over security operations. It was more their field of expertise after all. Like so many military men he had met, Pritchard had not seemed at all concerned with the technical difficulties in development, manufacture or issues with quality control. Simply 'Was it a viable weapon? When could it be fielded? In what quantity?' His aide seemed totally disinterested too. The two officers obviously had little in common, apart from their uniform. But those round eyes of the Captain's, set in that round, bland face, seemed to peer into Diop's soul whenever he looked at him. As if he could read his thoughts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, the Doctor's true concern lay with his precious twins. They had quickly picked up on his nervousness earlier in the morning, and had grown restless as a result. The plant, and everything and everyone in it could go to hell, but the twins . . . they had to be protected at all costs. That was all that mattered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris gathered his team around him for a briefing: Piers sat next to him, bright eyed, eager to learn from his partner and mentor. Then Sheva, more assured now, keen to make her own mark in the BSAA. And lastly Carlos, smiling as usual, just happy to go with the flow. Whatever happened, he figured, it would surely be fun.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Enough observing, we're going in." Chris stated flatly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why now?" Sheva countered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Colonel Pritchard of the NAB has arrived, together with his aide, Captain Mason. If I can get the evidence, whilst they're there, their time as Green Umbrella's moles in the BSAA are finished. The thought that BSAA personnel are involved with Umbrella sickens me. I take it very personally."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos nodded in sympathy. "The world is full of people like them mi amigo. I trusted Umbrella Corps. They betrayed me and my amigos in the UBCS. I take it personally too!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I understand . . . " said Sheva, undeterred. ". . . Even so, Chris, I advise caution. Not all employees at Chimiques Richard Toll are guilty. Some will be involved in the legitimate production of chemicals . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's <em>all</em> a front!" Chris interrupted her angrily.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, just like the Countermeasures Service was, like this Green Umbrella is now."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris looked grim. "Carlos is right Sheva, it doesn't change things."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Sheva persevered. "We must at least try to protect the innocent, Captain. We have a duty of care."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then give me options."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We should go in at night, when the plant has minimal staffing."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They'll be expecting that. The guard patrols double up at night. You've seen it with your own eyes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then that is our problem, not the guiltless workers."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers spoke next, quietly. "You know that's true Chris . . ." but he also knew his Captain would want solutions, not more objections. ". . . so we need a diversion, something to occupy the guards."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Well, yes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos smiled, he'd seen the direction the briefing was taking, Chris was on the defensive. "We could also limit our, er, assault, to the technical areas."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Captain tutted. "Tch, explain?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"My undercover work in South Africa revealed that these 'so called' chemical plants have a standard design. Storage areas are kept above ground level, administrative offices and research laboratories on the floor above. These are the areas where visitors are permitted."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris leaned forward, now listening with interest. "And what's below ground?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Two, sometimes three, floors. These are the production areas."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I see, can you describe them?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The first floor below is always open plan. Technical and engineering rooms surround an unrestricted area where there is a system of three-dimensional gantries that supply chemicals to the vast culture tanks and production vats on the floor below. Sometimes these tanks go down two floors, if they use a settlement process . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hmm, somehow I'd imagined it would be more like a production line. You know, chemicals in one end, BOWs and shit out the other."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, these are individual processes, some legitimate, as Sheva says, others not. Only the gantry level above is common to all. That and the power supply."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Is that below ground too?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, they always have a separate generating building. Power in from the grid, plus diesel generators and often batteries, to provide emergency power to critical facilities."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So there's fuel storage?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But it's not easy to set fire to diesel is it?" Piers queried.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not normally. But there are places." Chris replied knowledgeably. "The top of the fuel tanks for instance, where there's usually vapors. Or on the generators themselves, the injectors, where the fuel is vaporized."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, the injectors! Boom!" Carlos grinned.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sounds like your diversion." said Piers, smiling at Chris.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Take out the grid supply, let the generators cut in . . . how soon is that Mop-Top?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Almost immediately."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ok, give them a minute to run up, then blow the injectors plus any batteries you find."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No hay problema Capitán."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris rubbed his hands together. "Good! At last, now we're getting somewhere . . ." he looked across at Sheva and grinned contritely. ". . . and yes, we'll go in at night. Tonight."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They spent the rest of the afternoon preparing. Chris walked Sheva through his plan closely. If anything happened to him, she would become the team's leader.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos checked his explosives and particularly his timers and detonators. He had a limited supply, they all had to work as advertised.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers cleaned and checked everyone's weapons. He could do it much faster on his own than any of them, even Chris. And when he'd finished, and then double checked, he sought his Captain out. Chris always got tense before a mission, Ok, that was normal. But Chris' tension often led to a brooding silence. Piers so wanted to offer his support, but without it being too obvious. Damn! This being 'nice' was hard. But if it was for Chris, there was no alternative. At last Piers caught Chris on his own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're gonna' blow the whole place tonight aren't you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not necessarily." said Chris, evasively.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We had a code at West Point, the Cadet Honor Code, engraved on a stone memorial. It reads 'A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.' You can confide in me if you like. I am meant to be your No.2 after all."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"People were given the ten commandments in the bible, Ace. They were written on stone too. But shit still happens. I think I've broken most of them myself."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You covet your neighbors ass?" Piers grinned, trying to bring a smile to his partner's face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, just yours." Chris put a hand on his shoulder.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers leant in. "What am I going to do with you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't try and make an honest man of me Piers, it's too late for that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's never to late. Look at me, I'm trying to change, and I was perfect to begin with."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris closed his eyes and sighed. "Stick around me long enough and you'll see. The scientists who perpetrate these monstrosities, they're just as guilty as the BOWs in my book."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers looked up at him. "So you're judge, jury and executioner?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, just the executioner. I've already made my judgement, all the founders have."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You can't play God."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then when is he gonna' play Chris Redfield? Or the BSAA? Someone has to do it. That's our burden, mine, the BSAA's. All the founders, we gave ourselves the short straw. You think being one is all glitzy VIP parties and articles in Time Magazine? That's not the reality."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Your conscience is clear then?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh no, far from it. I do what I do because it has to be done. It doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I want to help, Chris. The BSAA . . . you,"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So what you gonna do? Pray for me?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"If necessary."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't! Just do one thing Piers, love me. Give me the strength that comes from knowing that at least one person understands me, and cares. Will you do that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"In a heartbeat!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then we just might have a chance together."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Outside of all this?" Piers spread his arms out wide.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hell, I don't know! Let's just get through tonight first, Ok?" Chris pulled Piers back in, and kissed the top of his head. "No heroics tonight Ace, alright? Just stay focussed." he whispered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers felt himself starting to lose it. "It's . . . it's not easy you know, not now, with us."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris kissed the latte hair once again. "I know babe, I know . . ." he said softly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Across the courtyard, Sheva and Carlos tried not to watch, though in the confined space, it wasn't easy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sheva smiled, coyly. "I think it's sweet. Chris deserves such a partner in his life."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It could have been you, surely? A year ago?" Carlos queried.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, our relationship was not like that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You sure?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't judge everyone by your own disgusting standards, Maggot!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Jajaja! So what was it like then?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why should I tell you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Because I care for him too, like you do. I care for all the people I have loved."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I find that hard to believe. There must be so many!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ay, Foxy Lady! You wound me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Touch me and I will, trust me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Chica, por favor! Can we stop all this fighting? Tonight we have to work together, I do not want it to be our last."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Nor I."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I knew it! You do have feelings for me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Of course. I love all dumb animals. Even maggots! Heh, heh, heh!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Despite his happy-go-lucky persona, Carlos was a consummate professional when it came to using explosives. With Sheva acting as his support and lookout, he'd broken into the power plant, expertly placed the charges, and re-joined Sheva outside. He held up four fingers. She nodded, and they made their way to meet up with Chris and Piers who had broken into the site from the other side.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Exactly four minutes later, as the first explosion went off, the lights around the factory flickered, then went out. A few seconds afterwards, some lights came back on. But then a series of muffled detonations sounded, and everything went dark.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris patted Carlos on the back, then, as the shouts of surprised and panicking guards rang out, the team made their way unopposed into the factory itself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>First impressions confirmed the layout Carlos had described that afternoon. The team paired-off again, Sheva and Carlos heading to the underground gantry level, whilst Chris and Piers searched the floors above ground. They soon heard the thud of heavy boots and pressed themselves against the wall of a darkened side alcove. The light of several torches passed before them, the beams moving in time to the footsteps, then silence. Chris waited a moment, then motioned Piers to follow him. They found themselves in an open-plan work area. Several desktop computer screens flickered in front of them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They must have a separate battery supply." Piers whispered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris nodded. "That means they must be important."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Do you want me to try downloading?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's only in the movies Ace. It takes far too long. Better just take one . . ." Chris opened his backpack and Piers did the same. ". . . or two."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>*************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>At the sound of the first explosion, Colonel Pritchard had awoken with a start. He called out to Mason.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Wake up you oaf! They've started!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Captain Mason roused himself from a deep, dream filled sleep. He and Gary had been . . .</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Get dressed!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"W, what's happening?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Redfield and his toy boy, what do you think?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason resented the inference. He reached out for the light switch. "Power's out."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'd managed to work that out for myself." said Pritchard sarcastically. "Get dressed, quickly!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Colonel waited impatiently as Mason fumbled with his uniform. "Here, take this torch and follow me. We must find Diop."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard and Mason had been using the guest suite on the top floor, next to Diop's own accommodation. He lived at the plant, it allowed him to spend all his spare time with the twins. He was with them now, sleeping on a sofa in the nursery. His cell phone rang, it was his chief of security.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dr Diop, Sir. There's been an explosion, in the power plant. There's a fire and power is out!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Deal with it! Do I have to do everything? I will try and restore the back-up supply from here."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Where are you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Level four, where else? Double the guard outside the twin's rooms."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But we need all personnel here . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't argue. They must be protected at all costs. Do you understand?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes Sir. What about your guests?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Let them take charge of finding the intruders. They were responsible for bringing them here in the first place."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Intruders?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, yes, the BSAA officers will explain, just do as they say. This explosion isn't an accident. But get those extra guards down here first. That's an order!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diop hung up. He turned and found the twins watching him intently.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What's happening Papa?" they asked together.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Those two men you met this morning . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The fat one . . . ?" said Thomas, frowning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>". . . and the tall one?" added Thérèse.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes. Foolishly, they have led those other men here. They have attacked the factory."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Those bad men?" the children said in unison, their eyes now glowing red.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diop nodded, he knew the twins could see him perfectly well in the darkness. "You must do as we discussed earlier. You must defend yourselves."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We will Papa. And you, we will defend you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thank you my dears. Now, you wait here, I will try and get some power back."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We can help you Papa. Thomas and I have memorized the plans."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, you must connect the emergency batteries in parallel. That way they will give you greater current capacity."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"In-series would provide greater voltage, Thomas."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But with reduced amp-hour capacity. You will need time to restore full power to the factory."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diop smiled in the dark. The twins were showing faultless logic and situational awareness as usual. He was so proud of them both. And he had to admit, power generation was not his strongpoint. "Perhaps, you would you like to help me" he suggested.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, yes please Papa!" They both cried excitedly, and suddenly, they were five year olds again, off on an adventure.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard and Mason met the chief of security on the stairs. "Situation report?” asked the Colonel.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"There has been a series of explosions in the power plant. The grid supply has been cut off and the back-up generators sabotaged. Dr Diop is trying to restore emergency power down below. There is a fire in the fuel storage tanks, currently out of control, and smaller fires in the generator room. The local fire service has been informed."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Let them deal with the fuel. Do not let them into the plant. Is that clear?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes Sir. Um, Dr Diop mentioned intruders, is this a terrorist attack?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Treat it as such. But I don't want them harmed. I have a plan . . ." Mason coughed loudly. ". . . Tch, <em>we</em>, have a plan. I want them to gain access to the underground levels."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You heard me man. Particularly the first level, the one with the gantries, and the one immediately below it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Just do it. I want your men ready on the ground floor, nowhere else.  <em>Our </em>plan is dependent on them believing they have avoided detection."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"If you say so Sir. Here, take this radio, we use them to keep in touch. Channel 5. What about the fire?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As soon as the fire service arrives, bring all available men back into the plant. There may be other intruders. But I repeat, they are not to be harmed. Do you have a strong room to hold them?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"There is a secure vault on the ground floor, it holds the computer back-ups. That would do."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good, make it ready." Pritchard turned to his aide. "If <em>our</em> plan goes wrong now, it will be <em>your</em> fault Captain."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"My analysis of their tactics will be correct Colonel."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And if not?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then the guards will have a fight on their hands."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And so will you, Captain, so will you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Possibly the guards below ground hadn't heard the commotion above, or they had orders to stay put. Either way, Carlos found his path on the gantry level blocked by two burly guards ahead. They hadn't seen him, but when he turned round to warn Sheva, she was nowhere in sight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>'Mierda!' he sighed inwardly. 'Oh well, the best form of defense is to attack.' He took out his knife and crept forward quietly, seeing by the light coming from their torches. he was just about to tackle the first one, when a commanding voice spoke out in Wolof.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Throw your weapons away . . . good . . . Now, on your knees, hands behind your heads."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The two men did as instructed. "Maggot, are you there?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, Mistress."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Secure them." Carlos did as he was told. Together he and Sheva bundled the two bound guards into a side room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What did you just call me?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Jajaja, I love strong women!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're disgusting!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos shrugged his shoulders. "It's a gift."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ugh! Come on, let's find this gantry control desk you spoke of."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It should be near the lift, over ther . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They both froze. The lights had suddenly flickered, then come back on. Somewhere below them came the unmistakeable whir of machinery starting up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos looked over at Sheva. "Joder!”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Doma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Events take a darker turn in this tenth chapter as Chris Redfield and his team begin their operation to disable the Green Umbrella facility in Richard Toll, Senegal.  Just as Captain Mason predicted, Chris positions Piers as the team’s marksman.  And just as Colonel Pritchard planned, his trap is sprung.  But none of them are aware of the presence of the Doma.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In Senegalese mythology, a Doma is an evil spirit.  All Wolof agree that the Doma are a constant threat, more dangerous to well-being and happiness than any other kind of evil spirit. The penetrating fear of the Doma is expressed in the meticulous and expensive precautions taken against them at almost all stages of Wolof life. Their attacks are unpredictable and stealthy, often not being able to identify them until it is too late. Most people are reluctant to talk about it. They say they eat the liver, the fat, and the heart, and they drink the blood; their favorite victims are young people; they usually turn into animals to attack. They can see and remove the internal organs they want to eat without disturbing the skin, or entering through their mouth or stomach. Because of their power, it is generally believed that Doma, rather than 'natural' accidents, cause most illnesses; they often attack by 'poisoning' food and drink.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sheva’s earpiece burst into life with the crackle of an open mic, followed by a laconic inquiry.</p><p>“SITREP?” It was Chris, focussed, commanding.</p><p>“Gantry level, Captain. 2 guards immobilized. No other hostiles encountered yet.”</p><p>“Copied. And the controls?”</p><p>“We’re still looking. But Captain, there’s some power down here. It just came on briefly, then went off. Carlos thinks it’s another emergency supply.”</p><p>“Same here. We’re on our way. Lightsticks Baker.”</p><p>“Baker, roger that. We’ll expect you.” The team had agreed the color-coded use of lightsticks for recognition in the dark. Baker was Orange. “Maggot! Code Baker, have you got that?”</p><p>“Si, Mistress … Ah, I see the control station. Over there, to our right, about 30 paces. Come on.”</p><p>Sheva took up guard, whilst Carlos ran his fingers over the display, muttering quietly to himself.</p><p>“Is it working?”</p><p>“Si. It’s a touch-screen system. It must be important, it seems to have a dedicated supply.”</p><p>“Can you work it?”</p><p>“Es facil. You operate the valves and pumps here, to control the flow in and out of the culture tanks. And this side screen positions the gantry.” he pointed. “Easy peasy for Carlos Oliveira!”</p><p>Sheva brought a finger up to her lips. “Shh, I hear something. Keep still!” Sheva turned, aiming her weapon in the direction of the noise.</p><p>“Orange, it’s the Captain.” she sighed with relief as Chris and Piers emerged out of the darkness. The glowing chemical sticks on their tactical vests up-lit their camouflaged faces, giving them a ghoulish appearance.</p><p>Piers’ face broke into a ghostly grin as they all met up. “So far, so good.”</p><p>“Too good.” Chris growled. “It’s suspiciously quiet. Where are all the guards?”</p><p>“Fighting the fire?” Piers offered.</p><p>“Hmm, we’ll see. Stay sharp everyone. Ok, what you got Carlos?”</p><p>“I can operate the gantry. It seems to be on a separate circuit. But the tank controls don’t seem to be responding properly. The power interruptions and surges must have confused their logic circuits. I need to go down to the third level and make some manual resets.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“I don’t know. It would be quicker with some help.”</p><p>“Ok. Ace, you stay here. Provide top-cover.”</p><p>“Team marksman, I can do that …” Piers’ face broke into another grin. “… Like you said, play to my <em>obvious</em> strengths.” he added, cockily.</p><p>“And I also said <em>no</em> heroics! Keep the chat to a minimum. Use the mic click-code at the first sign of trouble.”</p><p>“Yes, Captain.” Piers smarted at the rebuke, and brought his rifle up to the ready position, trying at least to look professional.</p><p>“Right, Carlos, you take the lead, since you know where you’re going. Then you, Sheva. Me last. Ready?” They all nodded. “Let’s go!”</p><p>Whilst the rest of the team descended the stairs, Piers selected night-vision on his scope. He looked for a suitable vantage point. After a careful 360 scan, he quietly and stealthily positioned himself on the opposite side of the gantry level to the stair well. It allowed him a reasonably unobstructed view of the team below. And their safety, particularly Chris’, was his primary concern. However, if he had ‘visitors’, there was precious little cover, and worse still, there was nowhere to run. It was a poor compromise. But it was the best he could do.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>“There’s movement! On the second floor below ground.”</p><p>The Chief of Security was sat at his control desk, Pritchard and Mason seated either side of him. In the darkened security office, the Colonel smiled. “How many?”</p><p>“I can’t tell, Sir. At least two.”</p><p>“What about on the gantry-level?”</p><p>“Nothing. There were two guards on that floor, but they’re no longer showing up.”</p><p>“I ordered that level clear!”</p><p>They were already on routine patrol. I thought it best to …“</p><p>"Don’t think man! Just do as I say!”</p><p>“He’ll be there. Don’t worry so, Colonel.” Mason said soothingly.</p><p>“I’m not worr …” Pritchard bit his tongue at his Captain’s patronizing tone.</p><p>“Movement on the third floor now! Two, no, wait, three.”</p><p>“Two or three, which is it?”</p><p>“Three Sir.”</p><p>“I told you so, Colonel.” Mason couldn’t help sounding smug.</p><p>“Nivans could still be one of them!”</p><p>“No. He <em>will</em> be acting as their marksman. That means there’s two others with Redfield.”</p><p>“Hmm, we’ll soon see. Where’s the good Doctor right now?”</p><p>“Er …”</p><p>“Let me guess, the non-existent fourth floor?” suggested Mason, casually.</p><p>The chief of security looked visibly shaken. “H,how did you know about that?”</p><p>“We’re not stupid! What’s so important down there? Is there an exit?”</p><p>“Um, no. J,just batteries, a secondary emergency supply. T,that’s what’s powering all this.” The man gestured to his flickering screen.</p><p>“You mean in the middle of an assault, Dr Diop is alone in the basement playing with batteries? Do you take me for a complete fool?” Pritchard exploded. Not for the first time, Mason tried hard not to snigger at his superior’s blindness to irony.</p><p>“N,no. There are some guards with him. It’s usually off-limits. The batteries can be dangerous, gas build-up or something. I,I don’t understand all the technicalities …” the man stammered, still feeling caught on the back-foot.</p><p>“Contact him, now! Tell him we have the intruders sandwiched. Tell his men to go up to the next level. Then we’ll spring the trap. And remember, I want Redfield and Nivans alive.”</p><p>“Aren’t you going to wait for the guards to come back from the power plant?”</p><p>“No! We’ll make do with those already here. Captain Mason and I will take the lead. This is, after all, in the nature of official BSAA business.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“There are, unfortunately, certain rogue elements within the BSAA, as the attack on this legitimate Umbrella facility clearly demonstrates. Captain Mason and I have been sent to correct those elements.”</p><p>“Correct?”</p><p>“Yes. Permanently.” Pritchard stood up. “Gather what men you have. Mason, you can take point. You’ve always wanted to play at being the action man. Now’s your chance!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>They reached the third floor below ground without encountering any opposition. Chris looked to Carlos. “What now?”</p><p>“See those hand-wheels at the base of each tank? They’re control valves. Turn them anti-clockwise till the indicator above turns red, then turn them back again till it goes green.”</p><p>“You sure?” asked Chris, doubtfully. “They’re already at green.”</p><p>“Trust me. They’re really at red. It’s the logic circuits that are confused, not Carlos Oliveira. We need to reset them by hand.”</p><p>“Then what?”</p><p>“Then we go back to the control console and I make cocktails.”</p><p>“This isn’t the time for jokes, Carlos!”</p><p>“I mean I reprogram it to mix-up the different contents of the tanks. Any impurities from one will contaminate whatever they’re brewing in another.”</p><p>“Will they explode?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Pity!” Chris sounded disappointed.</p><p>“Captain, shall we?” Sheva indicated the three rows of shadowy shapes, disappearing into the darkness, time was passing.</p><p>“Uh, yeah. You take this row Carlos. It’s nearest the stairs. If there’s any trouble, get back to that console and make with the Harvey Wallbangers as best you can. Sheva, you take the next, I’ll take the farthest ones. Go!”</p><p>As he watched them vanish into the gloom, Carlos set about his own tasks. “Explosions …” he muttered. “… that’s all Badass ever thinks about, the big baboon! I’ll give him explosions!”</p><p>Sheva was already on her second tank before Chris reached his first. She didn’t intended it to be a race, she merely wanted to impress Chris. And be first! But the valve on the fourth and final tank was stiff, and soon she saw the orange glow from the Captain’s lightstick alongside.</p><p>“Need a hand, partner?” He called out softly. She imagined him grinning in the dark.</p><p>“I can manage!”</p><p>“Ok, I’ll leave you here then …”</p><p>“No, don’t go Captain. Please, this one won’t budge!”</p><p>Chris tried it, his muscles straining. “Gnhh, it’s locked solid! Damn!” he cursed through gritted teeth. “We need a lever.”</p><p>“Why didn’t I think of that.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, you would have. It’s just I’ve done this sort of thing before.”</p><p>“You are so wise.”</p><p>“No, just old and experienced. You’ll know next time. Here, let’s use this.” Chris had found a huge, long-handled wrench next to the tank. “Someone else must have had the same problem before.”</p><p>“They didn’t have you.”</p><p>“Ha!”</p><p>With the wrench jammed in the brass control wheel, Chris strained again. “Good, it’s coming free. Try it now.”</p><p>Whilst Sheva reset the valve, Chris kept checking his watch. “C'mon, let’s get back to Piers.”</p><p>“Don’t forget Carlos too.”</p><p>“He can look after himself.”</p><p>“So can Piers.”</p><p>“I hope so.”</p><p>Sheva caught the concern in the Chris’ voice. “Don’t worry Captain, he’ll be alright.”</p><p>“Hmm, you think?”</p><p>As they started back to the stairwell, he suddenly stopped, putting a hand up to his earpiece. It was unmistakeable, two long clicks. He touched her on the arm. “It’s Piers, he’s got company!”</p><p>“Then we must hurry!”</p><p>BRRRRAT, BBRRAT! The sound of gunfire came from the direction of the stairwell.</p><p>“Maggot!” Sheva cried out in alarm.</p><p>“We’ll pick him up on the way! Teamwork, Partner. Look after my six!”</p><p>“Roger that!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Barry knocked on Jill’s door and entered, leaning against the frame. “They’re going in, I just spoke to Chris.”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Midnight local.”</p><p>Jill looked at her watch and did the math. “It’s 15:30 here, that means in three and a half hours. I’d better alert the WAB.”</p><p>“Chris won’t like you raining on his parade.”</p><p>“Tough! You know our boy, he’ll be leaving a trail of destruction behind him. The UN’s policy now is immediate extraction of all SOA’s post-incident.”</p><p>“Mainly due to Chris’ previous exploits I presume.”</p><p>“Oh, Barry! Heh, heh!”</p><p>“How are your investigations into Command going?”</p><p>“The investigation into Captain Mason’s finances wasn’t enough to implicate Pritchard directly, but our Piers Nivans lookalike, Corporal Gary Stilwell from COMMS, has been most co-operative. With his evidence, Pritchard’s blackmailing of the pair of them, his using their relationship, certainly warrants further investigation.”</p><p>“I thought the BSAA was all about equal opportunities these days?”</p><p>“It is, and rightly so, but it doesn’t mean everyone likes it.”</p><p>“Your man Pritchard for one?”</p><p>“Yes, and not just with Mason and Stillwell.”</p><p>“You mean Chris and a certain young sniper?”</p><p>“Yes. I had my suspicions already, before the rumors started.</p><p>"People love to gossip.”</p><p>“Not with me. I overhear things of course, pick-up on body-language.”</p><p>“So what made you suspect then?”</p><p>“Hmm, call it feminine intuition. To an experienced eye, Chris is more relaxed when Nivans is around. More alive.”</p><p>“Do you mind?”</p><p>“N,no. Why should I?”</p><p>“You go back a long way.”</p><p>“Once, I would have minded, very much. But we’ve moved on. He’s found Piers now and …”</p><p>“And you’ve got Carlos.”</p><p>“Barry Birkin!”</p><p>“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m happy for you both. All I’ve ever wanted is to see you two settled.”</p><p>Jill got up and threw her arms around him “Mwah! Bless you! Now, unless you wan’t to see your girl cry, I’ve got calls to make. Let me know the minute you hear anything from Chris …”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Whilst Chris and Sheva raced towards Carlos’ position, the main overhead lights flickered and came back on. A dull, sullen yellow, rather than bright, glaring white.</p><p>Chris looked up in alarm as he ran. He suddenly felt exposed, but no matter, speed was of the essence now. First, reach Carlos and get him safely to the control console two floors above, and then, a close second, get to Piers. He broke radio silence. “I’m on my way Ace.”</p><p>As they met up, Sheva put a friendly hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “Are you alright Maggot?”</p><p>“Ay, so you do care?” he grinned up at her, unharmed.</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“You say no, but I hear yes. Jajaja.”</p><p>“Quit it you two! We’ve got to get to Piers.”</p><p>“Lo siento, Capitán. What kept you back there?”</p><p>“A jammed valve.” Chris nodded in the direction of the gunfire. “How many?”</p><p>“Three, maybe four. It’s hard to tell, they’re all together, in the shadows. And they’re not moving.”</p><p>“Don’t complain! We’ve got to get back upstairs. Sheva, go with him. I’ll cover you whilst you make a run for it”</p><p>The sound of gunfire echoed down from above, the bark of several automatics and the lone crack of Piers’ sniper rifle.</p><p>“… Fuck it! Hurry! Go, go, go!”</p><p>Chris directed a burst of fire towards the stairwell, then started running himself. He heard the whizz and ricochet of bullets following him. Thank God the guards seemed lousy shots. He paused at the first bend in the stairs to return fire, expecting to see the guards close behind, but they weren’t there. They remained in the stairwell leading up from the fourth floor, firing occasional bursts in his general direction, but still not moving. It struck him as odd, but he didn’t have the time to think about it. He would willingly accept good luck any day. What mattered now was Piers.</p><p>He felt something brush against his leg and briefly looked down. A rat disturbed by all the commotion? If so, it had disappeared as quickly as it came. He moved on.</p><p>As they reached the floor above, with one more to get to the gantry level, there was another burst of automatic fire from above. Piers’ rifle cracked in reply. Once, twice, then an ominous silence.</p><p>By now, Chris had caught up with Carlos and Sheva. “C'mon, it’s just the next level, stay sharp.” Crouching on the last few steps, they peered cautiously around the open area. In the wan light, Chris could make out the bodies of three guards sprawled on the floor. The victims of Piers’ three shots. It was eerily quiet. There was no sign of any active hostiles, and worse, there was no sign of Piers. The floor seemed empty of life.</p><p>“Piers?” Chris whispered quietly, his body suddenly frozen. He knew instinctively that Piers had been captured.</p><p>Sheva shook him forcibly. “Focus Captain! We have to get Maggot over to that control desk.”</p><p>“Are millions of people going to die if I rescue Piers first?”</p><p>“Well, no Chris, but …”</p><p>“Then that’s what I’m doing! Those guards down below don’t seem to have followed us for some reason. Carlos, can you manage here alone?”</p><p>“Si, Badass. I only need 5 minutes.”</p><p>“Good, join us above ground as soon as you’ve finished. C'mon Sheva, it’ll be just like old times.”</p><p>“But what’s your plan Chris?”</p><p>“To rescue Piers.”</p><p>“Yes, but how?”</p><p>“I don’t know! The usual I suppose, blow things up, shoot the bad guys.”</p><p>“It could be a trap, you’re the one that Colonel wants. And he’s using Piers as the bait.”</p><p>“I know. He’ll expect me to do something crazy.”</p><p>“And will you?”</p><p>“Oh no, I’m way beyond crazy! Let’s go Sheva, the more time we waste talking, the less time we have to rescue Piers.”</p><p>“Chris, you already had a plan! Let’s see it through. We stay here and protect Carlos, then we <em>all </em>go and look for Piers. He wouldn’t want you to jeopardize the mission for his sake.”</p><p>“You don’t <em>know</em> that!”</p><p>“No, but you do!”</p><p>He looked at her sharply. Knowing she was right didn’t make it any easier. His shoulders slumped. “Dammit! Ok Sheva, we’ll try it your way. Hurry up Carlos!” Chris checked his watch. “That’s an order, we don’t have long!”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Piers hadn’t been taken without cost, but with each successive assault, the security guards had got closer. As Captain Mason’s analysis had predicted, the young Lieutenant had preferred to use of his rifle, rather than engage in close combat. In the end, cornered, with no escape route, he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers.</p><p>“Put your weapon down Nivans! Then kneel on the floor and place your hands behind your head. These men would like to kill you, I can prevent that.” Pritchard said smugly.</p><p>Piers weighed up his options, then slowly placed his rifle on the floor and kicked it away, sullenly. Chris had said 'No heroics’, and dead heroes couldn’t escape. Whilst he remained alive, there was still a chance.</p><p>“Take his weapon, Mason.”</p><p>As the Captain bent down in front of him, Piers spat out a single word. “Traitor!”</p><p>Mason looked back at him, almost apologetically, as he picked the rifle up.</p><p>“Hurry up man!” Pritchard yelled, then he nodded to the guards. As two of them bound Piers’ hands behind his back and pulled him upright, a third, a giant of a man, stood before him. The man jabbed a vicious left into Piers’ midriff, knocking the wind out of him.</p><p>“Ouff!”</p><p>“That’s for Cheikh …”</p><p>As the sniper doubled-up in agony, the man followed through with a vicious right uppercut.</p><p>“… and this is for Mbaye!”</p><p>“Unghh!”</p><p>Piers grunted in pain as his head snapped back, then he lost consciousness as it lolled forward again, down onto his chest.</p><p>Mason winced in horror. This wasn’t how he’d imagined things happening. And that single word from Nivans had struck him like a knife. Was it true?</p><p>“Mason, stop gawping and get him upstairs to that secure room! Do I have to think of everything!” Pritchard shouted. “The rest of you, hold Redfield and his team here. Await my command to fallback. Remember, I want Redfield alive. I don’t care about the others.”</p><p>The guards dragged Piers’ limp form into the room. “Strip and search him. Then bring his backpack to me.” the Colonel ordered, before making his way to the security control room.</p><p>Mason lingered. He couldn’t bear to see Piers robbed of his dignity in this way.</p><p>“Show him some respect. Leave his clothes on.” Mason commanded after Pritchard had gone. As the guards began to grumble, Mason drew his 9mm. “Do as I say!”</p><p>“Whatever, Yank!” the big man replied, obviously unconcerned.</p><p>“He’s coming round!” said another guard.</p><p>“Not for long.” The giant swung his right fist back, then landed a crushing blow to the side of Piers’ face. “And that was for my friend, Oumar!” He looked at Mason and grinned through cigarette stained teeth. “Oops! My hand must have slipped. Hah, hah!”</p><p>“Get out, all of you!” screamed Mason. “Stand guard outside.”</p><p>Mason sat Piers up against a wall and reluctantly bound his ankles with cable ties. Next he took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood away from Piers’ mouth. “I,I’m s,sorry Gary …” he stuttered. Then he bent down and kissed the handsome, but now battered, face. Glazed hazel eyes fluttered open for an instant, then rolled back under their lids. Mason touched the bruised cheek with his finger tips, and fought back his tears. “… s,so sorry.”</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Thomas and Thérèse had worked efficiently, and quickly. Their bodies just gray blurs in the light of Dr Diop’s torch as they sorted and moved the heavy batteries. He could barely lift one himself, but they seemed as nothing to his two beloved children. He’d never really quantified their strength, preferring to concentrate on their cognitive skills. Not because it didn’t interest him scientifically, but because he wanted them to have as normal a childhood as possible. He wanted them to discover their abilities rather than be shown them. To seek out knowledge, just as he had done years before on his family’s farm.</p><p>“You can try it now, Papa.” said Thérèse proudly, as she and her brother connected the final battery.</p><p>“Fingers crossed.” replied Diop, smiling at her.</p><p>“It <em>will</em> work, Papa.” Thomas chided him. The boy had always been a little more assertive than his sister. The Doctor hadn’t encouraged it, but they had spent so much time with their nannies. Soon, that would change. But first, he had to restore emergency power, and then get them safely away from the plant. These two idiots from the BSAA had ruined everything. They had drawn unwelcome attention to the plant, rather than divert it away.  And worse, they were now endangering his 'children’, Project T-Gemini.</p><p>He checked and made the breakers, and watched the power meters as they gradually moved from zero. At the same time, the regular lighting came back on and he could see the children more clearly.</p><p>“I told you it would work Papa. You can uncross your fingers now, and you too Thérèse. I saw you.”</p><p>“Heh, heh, I didn’t want father to feel left out … what was that?”</p><p>Diop automatically looked upwards, in the direction of the noise, but didn’t speak.</p><p>“Shooting!” opined Thomas. “Is it those bad men Papa?”</p><p>The Doctor sighed. “Probably. We must plan our escape.”</p><p>“We could stay in our rooms”</p><p>“No, my dears. We could end up being trapped down here. We shall wait until the shooting is over, then make our way out carefully.”</p><p>“We can go and look. They won’t see us.”</p><p>Diop shook his head. “It’s not safe.”</p><p>Thérèse took his hand in hers. “Don’t worry Papa, I will look after you.” She looked at her brother, knitting her brows tightly as she did so. “Thomas?”</p><p>He put a hand up to his temple and nodded. “Yes. You are right.” There was a blur of sudden movement, and he was gone.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>The tall guard looked at Captain Mason’s retreating back and spat on the floor.</p><p>“Yanks!” He turned to the others and grinned. “You two keep watch, I’m going to have a little fun.”</p><p>“That Colonel said he didn’t want him harmed.”</p><p>“Tell that to our dead brothers! Besides, what I’m going to do won’t leave any marks. Hah, hah, hah!”</p><p>He walked in and hauled the unconscious sniper upright, hooking his wrist ties over a coat hook on the back of the door. He roughly pulled down Piers’ combat pants and shorts, then took out a soft-rubber truncheon from a pouch on his belt.</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Piers’ eyes opened slowly. He tried to remember what had happened, but his brain didn’t seem to be functioning properly. And then he felt the searing pain. He started to cry out, but a large hand immediately clamped over his mouth.</p><p>“Not yet pretty boy! Wait till I’m done …” The voice hissed in his ear, and Piers felt the guard’s hot breath on his neck.</p><p>“… Ngh … gurrk!</p><p>The hand twitched, then went limp before it suddenly fell away from his mouth. Piers felt the man’s body shudder and heard his death rattle, then the weight fell from his back. He tried to turn his head around. He could see the guard’s crumpled body on the floor behind him. And for an instant he thought he saw a small boy with glowing orange eyes standing over it. Piers shook his head groggily, thinking he must be delirious. When he looked again, he could only see the guard’s lifeless body. He kicked the door with his foot, and cried out for help …</p><p>
  <b>************************</b>
</p><p>Colonel Pritchard heard the commotion. "Go and sort it out Mason! Redfield’s on his way. I want Nivans ready when we meet.”</p><p>“He won’t like it. He gets very focussed on things he believes in, almost insanely so.”</p><p>“I don’t want him to like it, you cretin! I want to see him humiliated, I want to see him crawl.”</p><p>“I thought this was about the BSAA?”</p><p>“That musclebound moron <em>is</em> the BSAA. The loss of this facility is nothing compared to ending the BSAA. Places like this can easily be rebuilt, replaced. It’s only money. But people, and their reputations, they’re irreplaceable. Once you destroy them, they’re finished. Now go and see what’s happening out there. It’s time to show the Captain our prize.”</p><p>Mason hurried to the holding room. He found Piers sat hunched in a corner. His arms around his knees, shivering, semi-naked. Two guards were looking in horror at the body of a third.</p><p>Mason rushed to Piers’ side. “Oh my God! What have they done to you? Here, let’s put this around you. That’s it, Gary.”</p><p>“Huh?” Piers mumbled from the side of his busted mouth. Nothing was making any sense to him at the moment. Only the pain he felt was real.</p><p>Whilst Mason put his own jacket around Piers’ trembling shoulders, he angrily questioned the guards.</p><p>“What the hell happened here?”</p><p>“Abdoulaye wanted to rough him up, get revenge. Now he’s dead.”</p><p>“Did the Lieutenant kill him?”</p><p>“N,no. He was still strung up, on the door, when we came in, barely conscious. He couldn’t have.”</p><p>“A heart attack then?”</p><p>“No, it was … it was a Doma!” Both men crossed themselves at the mention of the word.</p><p>“A what?”</p><p>“An evil spirit. They live here, below ground.”</p><p>“They?”</p><p>“Guards have seen two of them, together, at night. That’s when they come out.”</p><p>“Superstitious nonsense! Now give me a hand. We need to get him dressed and cleaned up.” No one, not even Piers, noticed Mason slip something surreptitiously into the large side-pocket of the sniper’s combat pants as they clothed him.</p><p>“Can you stand?” Piers nodded groggily, wincing as he stood up, using Mason’s shoulder for support. “I didn’t mean any of this to happen. I swear it. Please say you believe me?”</p><p>Piers grunted as Mason led him gently to the door.</p><p>“Listen, Captain Redfield is coming … and I’m afraid he’s going to go berserk.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Although Chris is in command, Sheva is his foil, his voice of conscience here.  Her own abilities and leadership skills are maturing.  Piers, however, is relatively inexperienced, and has yet to fulfil such a role.  Still brash and over-confident, this mission will see him grow into a more thoughtful and mature soldier.  And Carlos?  He’s just happy being Carlos and enjoying the ride.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Salvation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chris Redfield and Colonel Pritchard face one another in a battle over Piers Nivans’ life, and the future of the BSAA.  What role will Captain Mason play, sidekick or hero?  Everyone’s fate hangs in the balance in the concluding chapter of ‘Secrets’.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There’s a lot about eyes in this chapter, the window to the soul.  Hence the title. Oh, and there’s a bonus surprise epilog too!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>Carlos hummed 'La Bamba' as his hands darted to and fro over the touch screen. His cheerful disposition did nothing to relieve Chris' nerves, or impatience. The Captain checked his watch yet again.</p></div><div class=""><p>"How much longer Carlos?"</p></div><div class=""><p>"Just a few more minutes, less without your interruptions."</p></div><div class=""><p>"Tchh! Hurry the fuck up! We need to find Piers!"</p></div><div class=""><p>"Easy Captain, all in good time. Good work Maggot, keep at it." said Sheva, trying to calm frayed nerves as she and Chris scanned the stairs opposite for signs of activity.</p></div><div class=""><p>"We don't have time!" Chris checked his watch yet again. "We have to be out of here in 30 minutes."</p></div><div class=""><p>"Captain? What have you done?" Sheva tried hard not to make it sound like an accusation.</p></div><div class=""><p>"I, I set some charges, on my line of tanks. Sorta' insurance, in case Carlos couldn't fix the controls."</p></div><div class=""><p>"Idiota! So did I." said Carlos. "You said you wanted explosions. I thought I'd surprise you."</p></div><div class=""><p>"I don't like surprises! Dammit! Why didn't you say?" Chris replied angrily.</p></div><div class=""><p>"Why didn't <em>you</em> say?" Carlos retaliated.</p></div><div class=""><p>Sheva shook her head. "Why didn't either of you say? Men! We had a plan!"</p></div><div class=""><p>"Things change, opportunities arise."</p></div><div class=""><p>Sheva was just about to argue that fact when Carlos turned around. "There, all done, though there doesn't seem much point, if it's all going to blow up now . . ."</p></div><div class=""><p>"I <em>said</em> it was insurance! Can we . . ." Chris stopped mid-sentence, his mouth open. On the other side of the gantry area some figures had appeared coming down the stairs. Four security guards, followed by Colonel Pritchard. And behind him, a limp, disheveled figure supported by Captain Mason and another guard. His face was bruised and bloody, and he could barely walk, but Chris recognized him instantly.</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>"Piers!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah! How touching!" said Pritchard, mockingly, clapping his hands. Chris and Sheva raised their weapons.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I wouldn't if I were you Redfield. You might hit your <em>precious</em>Lieutenant." The Colonel spat the word out. "You disgust me, you and your kind. You think you own the BSAA. That you can act just as you like, you and the other founders. Such a cosy little club . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"If you've harmed him . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not personally, though I think the guards may have had some scores to settle."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Rwaarr . . . !" Chris bellowed and lunged forward, but Sheva and Carlos held him back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>". . . You're dead Pritchard!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard put his gun to Piers' head. "Then he'll die with me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You bastard!" Chris struggled to free himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not now amigo, he's right, a shoot out could harm Piers." Carlos counseled. "Is that what you want?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"N, no." Chris' shoulders slumped.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A wise decision Redfield, how uncharacteristic. But we do seem to have reached a stand-off."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Let him go, Pritchard. Take me instead!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hmm, I don't think so. I must admit, I had planned something more drawn out for you Redfield. Your downfall and disgrace. But it's becoming tiresome, like this little charade. Time to conclude the proceedings I think." The Colonel turned to face his aide. "Bring him here!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason hesitated, but the guard shoved Piers forward to the edge of the gantry.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris knew he had to play for time now. If he could keep Pritchard talking until the charges went off below, there might be an opportunity to save Piers in the ensuing confusion.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Where's Diop?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Who?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't play me for a fool Pritchard. Dr Amadou Diop, your Green Umbrella host."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I have no idea. Mason here thinks he has some sort of secret laboratory in the basement." Chris' eyebrows raised at the revelation, but he remained silent as the Colonel continued. "He's of no real concern. Mad scientists are two a penny. But there's only one Captain Redfield."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's not just about me surely?" Chris sneered at the Colonel. "I suppose you have some crazy idea to destroy the BSAA as well?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Eventually, yes. But nothing so dramatic at present. For now it's sufficient to shift it's focus away from Green Umbrella and their partners. Let it concentrate on small scale Bioterrorism. Little renegade groups, supremacists, individual crackpots. We don't want to upset the status-quo too much."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Upset the status-quo?" the phrase rang a bell in Chris' head. "You're Family aren't you? Not Green Umbrella at all."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah! Well done Captain! Unfortunately that's an insight you will take to your grave."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm not planning on my dying any time soon."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Perhaps you're not, but I am."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Does that go for your sidekick too? He doesn't seem the whacko, lunatic type."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Captain Mason has always wanted to see action. Totally unsuited for it of course, but he sees you as some kind of hero. Fantasizes over you with some disgusting corporal in tow. Dressing-up whilst watching your combat videos together."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sounds like you're jealous. Your own time on operations was rather short I believe."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You know damn well it was! You and your founding cronies, you held me back. Passed over, ignored . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Perhaps you just weren't any good? Individual crackpots like you tend not to be."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"How dare you! I wouldn't have brought the BSAA into disrepute, not like you and your filthy kind."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's good, channel that anger, Colonel. You're gonna' need it when I get my hands around your throat!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't think so, Captain!" Pritchard spat the rank out. "I think you'll already have your hands full, rescuing your precious Lieutenant! Here he comes now." and with that, Pritchard pushed the young sniper over the parapet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Piers!" Sheva and Carlos couldn't restrain Chris now. He tore himself free from their grasp and leapt over the railings. Holding his arms out for balance, he ran along a narrow cross-beam towards his partner. Piers had fallen across one of the steel girders that supported the gantries. He wasn't moving, but Chris couldn't get to him, the gap between the beam and the girder was too great to jump. Chris turned to Carlos in desperation. "I can't reach! Help me!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos' fingers danced over the control screen once more. Chris heard the whirr of an electric motor starting up. Soon a large clamshell grab bucket, used to deliver bulk chemicals to the tanks below, was gliding towards him. Guided along a system of wires and pulleys.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Get in amigo, I'll take you to him." Carlos yelled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris leapt from the beam he was standing on and into the grab bucket. One of the security guards with Pritchard raised his weapon to shoot, but Sheva was quicker.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>CRACK!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a surprised grunt, the guard slumped lifeless to the floor. As the Colonel and the others took cover, Carlos directed another bucket alongside Chris. As he jumped from one to the other, Sheva provided covering fire, returned blindly by the remaining guards. Pritchard could see his opportunity for revenge fast disappearing. He looked at Captain Mason and smiled cruelly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You've always wanted to play the hero haven't you Mason . . . ?" The Captain nodded, nervously. ". . . to go on combat operations. To prove yourself equal to Redfield. Am I right?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, but . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard removed the C-virus ampule he had stolen earlier from his pocket, broke off the top and plunged the vial into Mason's exposed neck. "Then now's your chance!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>From somewhere above, Chris heard a terrifying squeal, like a huge boar, full of pain and rage. As he reached Piers, he looked up to see a horrifying sight. One that made his blood run cold.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"How's my Master of Unlocking?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jill Valentine rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. "Tired. Shouldn't you be at your console?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Barry tapped the transceiver clipped over his left ear. "I'll be the first person to hear. In any case, I've just patched my desk through to yours. You'll be the second person."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You can do that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>I</em> can. Is there no end to my talents, I hear you ask? Perhaps the BSAA will give me a raise?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Be serious!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Which? The talent or the raise?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, you! Well, I can't say I don't need the company. I've done everything I can. Now we have to sit and wait for Chris to do his bit. I hate this part of operations! He gets all the fun, and I get all the worry."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's why you're a Major and he's still a Captain. Besides, our boy will come through, he always does. You've just gotta' expect the unexpected, that's all."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But what if he doesn't? One day his luck will run out. Every new operation, I think, is this the one?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's a big boy, he can look after himself."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"That's just it. This relationship with Lieutenant Nivans, whatever it is, it might make Chris reckless."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ha!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"More reckless then! Throw Carlos into the mix and God knows what might happen!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"In which case, let's go over everything again, try and plan for all possibilities."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't you think I haven't?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Another set of tired eyes won't go amiss."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Mister Burton!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Major Valentine?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Bless you!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason had stared at Pritchard in disbelief. Automatically he put a hand up to the wound in his neck.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"W,what have you done!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Enhanced you. I've given you everything you never had, strength, power. Me, remember that. Now kill him! That's an order!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason's body convulsed and he let out a piercing scream. It felt as if his body was being turned inside out, it was. The bones of his arms burst through the skin as they grew three-fold. Pincers formed where his thumbs and index fingers had been and a spiky carapace formed over his back to protect his newly exposed body organs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Only one thing kept Mason's mind in control as he scuttled over the railings. He went, not because of Pritchard's order, but because it was Gary's limp body lying across the girders below. And Gary had to be saved, even at the cost of his own life.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris and Mason faced one another. Chris sought for a trace of the man in what had been the face of his opponent, and found it. His eyes, set above a gaping maw, now flanked by mandibles and hair-fringed feeding paddles. There was a deep sadness in them, a sense of impending doom.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You always wanted to be part of an SOU didn't you?" Chris smiled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason grunted, bobbing his body; he no longer had a neck.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then serve with honor, for the BSAA, not Pritchard. Give Lieutenant Nivans to me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The creature seemed to hesitate as the vestiges of Mason's mind fought to maintain control of his physical transformation. Chris' mind raced as he tried to find another angle.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Your friend, Corporal Stillwell . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"G..a...r..y?" the voice now thin and halting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, um, Gary. He's in jail. Not by my hand, but by his, Pritchard's." Chris glanced upwards. "I know he was blackmailing you both. Listen, I can't save you Mason, you're beyond my help now. But I'll do what I can for Gary. I promise. Do one last good thing. It's how you'll be remembered, Captain Mason, BSAA, served with distinction."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason clutched Piers' body tightly to his own with his pincer arms. "H..e..'s G..a..r.y!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris smiled. "Of course he is. Give, give Gary, to me. Please? I'll make sure he's safe."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason made a final effort to resist the viral mutation raging within his body. Slowly, he handed Piers over to Chris.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thank you. You know what you have to do now?" Chris glanced up towards the screaming Colonel.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pritchard looked down on them with contempt. "What are you doing you stupid fool! I told you to kill him! Kill them both!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris looked deep into Mason's eyes, the trying to find, and draw out, the last surviving remnant of the Captain's humanity.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Now save your own soul Mason." urged Chris.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sa..l...va..t...i..on?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, salvation."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason keened his assent, and started to clamber back up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>From a hidden vantage point above them, Thomas frowned in concentration. "Are you seeing this, Thérèse?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, and I have told Papa. He said he has been wrong about these soldiers. He says he now knows the tall thin one and the fat one are the bad people."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I agree. One of the guards was hurting the younger soldier. I, I had to stop him."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I understand. Listen brother, Papa says we cannot stay down here. There is a bad smell in the air, Papa is coughing, he says he can't breath. I'm frightened."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A smell? What kind of smell?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Strong, burning, like when Nanny cleans the bathroom."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas thought quickly. "Chlorine gas! It must be venting from the batteries! You must get him away from there, to our rooms. Can you do that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'll try. What are you doing?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The creature, I have to observe it. That's what Papa would want. And then I have to make sure everyone is safe. Don't worry little sister, I will join you both soon."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the monster he had created came nearer and nearer, Pritchard became more and more agitated. He began to fear for his own life. "I said kill them! You, guards, shoot them, shoot them all!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason roared in pain as he took the first shots. He faltered, glancing backward as he tried to shield Chris and Piers from the fire.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good work, Mason. You can do it!" Chris called out encouragingly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Before Carlos and Sheva could return their own fire, a figure materialized in front the security guards. It was a small boy. His eyes flashed red with anger.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's the Doma!" "Run!" "Save yourselves!" The terrified guards dropped their weapons and fled, leaving Pritchard alone. He stared madly at the dark skinned child.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't know what kind of abomination you are. But I'm sure you can be killed too . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Colonel fired his 9mm on automatic. But no sooner had he squeezed the trigger, when the child seemed to fade and disappear before his eyes, and the bullets passed through thin air. Whilst he stared in disbelief, the space was suddenly filled with the monstrous form that had once been Captain Mason. As the creature lunged towards him, Pritchard emptied his remaining rounds into its body. The monster staggered, steam venting from its wounds, but it continued towards him, claws outstretched, eyes like burning coals.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Get back Mason!" Pritchard screamed. "I order you! W,what are you doing?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"M..My..d.u..t..y."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The creature's huge crab-like arms encircled Pritchard, and began to crush him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"F..o.r Ga..r..y!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"N,no . . . Obey me, I order . . . I . . . arghh!" Pritchard's eyes bulged, and blood spurted from his lips as the life was slowly squeezed out of him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"N..o...mo..re....o..r..der..ssss.."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mason, still clutching the Colonel to his chest, lurched towards the railings and plunged over. The two bodies fell silently in a deadly embrace, bounced sickeningly off a girder, and down into one of the culture tanks below. Clouds of steam erupted from the dying creature that had once been Captain Mason. Pritchard, in his final breath, raised an arm above the surface of the corrosive liquid, the flesh dripping from his fingers and forearm. Then both bodies disappeared below the surface. Dissolving in the seething, bubbling, contents of the tank.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos and Sheva were transfixed by all that they had just witnessed. But as Chris made his way back to them, Piers' body still cradled in his arms, they recovered; assisting the Captain as he passed Piers over and clambered out of the wildly swinging grab bucket.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As they laid Piers on the floor, Chris knelt down beside him, wiping the blood from his face. "Careful with him, he's out cold. God knows what they did to him back there."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He will be alright. I stopped them hurting him."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Startled, Chris found himself looking into the eyes of a small child. Brown eyes that mirrored his own, sad, filled with concern.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Who the f . . . !" Chris gasped in disbelief.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A Doma!" Sheva whispered, as Carlos crossed himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The child looked up at them and smiled. "Don't be afraid. My name is Thomas. This soldier was being hurt, by one of the guards. It was wrong, so I stopped it." he explained simply.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"T,thank you, Thomas?" Chris answered, still in shock. "Who exactly are you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I am Papa's son."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Papa?" asked Sheva.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Doctor Diop."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris tried to recover his senses. "Amadou Diop? Where is he?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"In our home, on the floor below. He is with my sister, Thérèse. I must go to them now."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Below? Wait, this place is going to blow . . ." Chris checked his watch, ". . . in ten minutes. They must get out of there. We all must!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We should help him Captain!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Your sister, is she like you?" Chris asked the boy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, we are Papa's very own twins."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris looked at Piers, and hesitated.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Captain?" Sheva pleaded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a wisdom beyond his years, Thomas caught the subtle interplay between Chris and Sheva, reading their unspoken thoughts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't worry! Thérèse and I are clever, and strong. Take you friend and save yourselves." There was a grey blur where Thomas had been, moving rapidly towards the stairs, then it was gone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Madre Dios!" exclaimed Carlos. "What was that thing?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris shrugged. "I don't know, one of Diop's creations I guess."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He was a frightened child. We should help him."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sheva tried to follow Thomas, but Chris grabbed her arm in an iron grip.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No! You heard him, Sheva. He doesn't need our help. Let it be."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"But Captain . . . !"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris set his jaw. As he picked up Piers in a fireman's lift, he'd already made up his mind. "That's an order. This team is my only concern right now. Our mission is accomplished. We're getting out of here. End of."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sheva glanced back at Carlos for support, but he shook his head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He's right, Chica. Some things you cannot help . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They'd barely made the ground floor when there was a massive explosion below them. Automatically, Chris looked at his watch. "It's early!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos had checked the time as well. "No my friend. That was a single explosion, not a series."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The batteries?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Si, but we must hurry, we don't have much time." Dust and ceiling tiles were falling around them as they sought the way out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They won't have made it." Sheva whispered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No. I'm sorry, but it could have been us." Chris replied, flatly. "C'mon you two, run! The exit's just up ahead."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a rosy tint in the sky. A beautiful new African dawn was breaking, spoilt only by the thick plume of black smoke rising from the sabotaged oil tanks the other side of the complex. The fire brigade were busy battling the flames and no one saw them as they ran from the building to the deserted car park in front. And not a moment too soon. There were a series of muffled explosions and the building behind them seemed to lift momentarily and writhe in the air, like some dying animal, before crashing back down. Collapsing in on itself as the foundations gave way, spewing flame and choking dust as it did. They didn't stop running until they reached the far side of the car park and safety.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Coughing from the dust, they paused to catch their breath.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why did you stop me Captain?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Huh?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Back there, the children. We might have saved them."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I made a command decision, a valued judgement. My first priority was, and always will be, the safety of my team."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I thought you had wisdom."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Listen, they had no future. Outside of that environment, those children would have been treated like freaks, poked, prodded, slowly disassembled. They could never take their place in society. So, then what? Life in a laboratory, prison, terminated? It was better to go that way, believe me. They could never have enjoyed a normal existence. They never had the chance. That was Diop's decision, not mine!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So you did think it through?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's my job Sheva, as team leader. Judge, jury, and sometimes, executioner. One day it will be yours too."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I, I meant no disrespect Sir."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"None taken. You have kind heart Sheva, take my advice, try and keep it. But trust me, it won't be easy." Chris forced a brief tired smile, then it was back to carrying the burden of command. "Ok, stay alert. There may still be hostiles about."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Carlos had been shaking the dust from his curly hair, when he stopped and cocked an ear. Shielding his eyes against the rising sun's light, he made out two shapes, low in the southern sky "Hey, amigos! Here comes the cavalry!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris and Sheva looked up as the two BSAA helicopters neared, then flared for landing. In the swirling dust, a familiar voice rang out from one of them. "Sheva, is that you little one?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Uncle? I thought you . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I reflected on what you said. I was wrong, this <em>is</em> my fight. I thought you and your colleagues might need some help."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Another voice called from the second chopper. "Captain Redfield, this way. Bring the Lieutenant. I have medics on-board!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris squinted through the dust. "Josh, Josh Stone?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"At your service, Captain!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Are you a sight for sore eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Heh, heh! How come I always end up rescuing you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Because that's what friends are for!" Two army medics appeared with a stretcher. Soon they were carefully placing Piers on board. Chris swung himself up into the helicopter behind them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Gently, he's unconscious. He's lost blood and is probably in shock. I think he was used as someone's punchbag."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't worry, Captain Sir, he's in good hands now."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Josh turned in his seat and looked back inside the fuselage. "Is that all of you? Just the four? I was told there might be some others."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris swallowed hard. "No. Just us. The surviving security guards fled. The others . . . the others perished."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Roger that Captain. Let's get you out of here then. Rapid extraction following a major incident, as per standard BSAA practice. We're taking you all to Mariffa for repatriation."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Mauritania?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Orders of Major Valentine, get you out of Senegal ASAP. Your initial debriefing will be conducted en-route to Lajes Field in the Azores. Agents Alomar and Granite will accompany you there."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill!" Chris snapped.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey, don't shoot the messenger! You alright?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm sorry Josh. I shouldn't take it out on you. I'm just worried about Piers, I didn't mean to . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Okay, man, I understand. Don't worry, there's a medical team on standby at Mariffa for just such eventualities. Lieutenant Nivans will receive the best of care. And your partners are being attended to on the other bird . . ." Josh held his headphones tight for a few seconds, listening. ". . . their pilot reports they're receiving treatment for mild dust inhalation, otherwise they're fine."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Good. What about this place?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Commander Oshenga and his army boys will secure the area, establish an exclusion zone, then round up the guards and handle things locally. It will prove to be an unfortunate industrial accident I believe. Our clean-up team is already en-route from Dakar."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sounds like you've got it all under control."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Heh, heh! Not me Chris. Jill has been running things, I just do as I'm told. Um, do you want come up here and ride shotgun?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No thanks, I'll stay here in the back with Piers, if you don't mind."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Understood . . . Okay then, Captain to crew, secure for immediate take-off. We're outta' here!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Slowly, Piers awoke. Hazel eyes, bruised from his beating, fluttered open. Full lips, cut and cracked, opened too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris squeezed his partner's hand gently, his voice full of concern. "Oh, Piers! I thought I'd lost you!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers tried to smile. "N,not . . . that . . . easy."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You little shit!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Heh, heh . . . agh! It hurts t,to laugh."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hush now, rest. I got you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hmm . . . rest . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers closed his eyes. He barely spoke during the remainder of the flight. Not so much because of his injuries, rather because of how they'd been obtained. Not through combat, but through torture and abuse. He didn't realize it, but he was still in a state of shock. Not just physical, but emotional. The WAB medics who fussed over him did. So did Chris and the others. It was an experience they had all been through. The school of hard knocks. Never forgotten, but, with time, recognized and dealt with? It made them comrades, it made them stronger. But for the young sniper it was still the shock of the new. A dawning realization that being golden and gifted were not sufficient in themselves.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The medics had put Piers on a drip to prevent dehydration. But when the adrenalin had worn off, and the shock set in, Piers begun to vomit. So they administered a mild sedative. However, only when there was nothing left to bring up, did Piers finally rest. Chris remained by his side throughout the flight, providing a friendly face and a reassuring hand to hold.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"D, dirty." Piers mumbled when they arrived at Mariffa.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thirsty?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"N,no . . . dirty!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Have you got somewhere we can get cleaned up?" Chris demanded of the WAB official</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>who met them inside the terminal.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Er, I don't know, let me find out Captain."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Do that, and don't be long about it!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You were a bit hard on him Chris."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We're tired, filthy, smelly, and he thinks we're gonna' wait 2 hours in the VIP lounge?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Easy Badass, relax."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not until we're home and Piers has fully recovered."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>************************</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It took time for Piers' physical scars to heal, and longer still for the mental ones. Time and Chris' love. But one morning he looked in the mirror and liked who he saw. A little older, a little wiser, and a lot less arrogant. The BSAA NAB too, had taken time for self-reflection. A hard look at its recruitment and vetting procedures. A series of painful internal assessments and harsh self-criticism. But like Piers Nivans, it would emerge wiser and stronger.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>Epilog:</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And in the mean time, the Lieutenant moved in with his Captain . . .</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Piers got up from the bed and went to find Chris. He found him standing on the balcony of his apartment, gazing out over the town. He was smoking, and his cheeks were wet with tears.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What are you smoking, Chris? Not MJ? You promised me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, it's just tobacco Ace. You're the only thing I'm jonesing for these days.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I should hope so!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I want an end to secrets, between us, on Able Team, the BSAA.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So why the tears? Are you still thinking about those two kids?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris took a long drag on his cigarette. "Yes, and all the other innocent people caught up in this dirty war."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I didn't realize you cared, you don't normally show it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I don't think I've ever cried in public, certainly not since Ma and Pa died."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not even with your sister?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Especially not with her. I had to be Claire's rock. The one constant thing in her life. Dependable, strong. I couldn't let her down, let her see how weak I really was. I couldn't then, I never have since."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's not a weakness, it's compassion."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You think?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I know. Here, let me hold you. Let me share your tears Chris, like I want to share your life."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Chris shuddered. "Gah! It scares me Piers."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What does?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"How dependent on you I've become. You're my salvation."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Salvation?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Something Mason said, just before he died."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So that's good, surely?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Is it? What if I lose you?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You won't. I won't make the same mistakes twice."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Promise you'll never hurt me, Piers? I couldn't bear to lose someone else I love."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I promise."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Truly?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A cadet will not lie, it's set in stone. And here's a token of that promise." Piers reached inside his tee and pulled out a silver chain, from which dangled his treasured Marine Corps ring. "This ring is very special to me, but it's always been a little too large. Um, I would be proud if you would wear it for me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"A ring? What are you saying Ace?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm saying we're officially partners, Chris, what do you think?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I think I might cry some more, happy tears this time."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He, he, alright then. I think I just might join you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh Piers, the BSAA finest, bawling their eyes out. What are we like?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Engaged. Now, Captain, if you're still jonesing for me, come back to bed. You can either take me orally, or intravenously!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A week later . . .</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You need a holiday." said Chris.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, <em>We</em> need a holiday. And I know just the place. You'll love it."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sounds like you got something planned?" Chris cocked an eyebrow.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, after all this Green Umbrella stuff, my injuries, I thought it was time . . ."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You gonna' tell me about it?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No." Piers smirked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Little shit! Now I know you're getting better!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>One night on their holiday . . .</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You know Ace, it frightens me how much I want you. And the thought that I might lose you frightens me even more."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then don't be frightened."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What do you mean?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Marry me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What!?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Marry me. At least we can be frightened together."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Was that a proposal?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I, I accept."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You hesitated!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm frightened!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don't be. I take it I have your permission to marry? As my superior officer?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Of course . . . Oh my God!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Now what?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'll have to ask Jill for her permission. Now I really am frightened!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He, he! We found Carlos for her, so she owes me. Remember?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh yeah, good. Apparently she hasn't let him out of her sight since we got back. Um, do you wanna' ask her?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No. One of us being frightened at a time is enough!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You devious little shit!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Better get used to it Captain."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>************</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The bicycle skidded to a halt outside the torn perimeter fence. The boy looked in horror at the twisted metal and mounds of debris surrounding a deep, central crater. Everyone had gone now. The soldiers, the police, the clean-up team. The papers said Dr Diop had died in the explosion, trying to save the plant. But Benye wondered what had happened to the Doctor's children, his friends Thomas and Therese. Sometimes the Doctor had taken him down in his very own lift, and he had played with the twins in their strange subterranean home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He crawled under a hole in the fence, walked with his bike to the edge of the crater, and began to cry. No one could have survived this, neither the Doctor, nor his friends.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The boy turned to go and stopped. Someone had whispered his name. "Benye!" he thought he must be dreaming. Perhaps it was a Doma? He was just about to run when he heard the voice call again. "Benye, is that you?" He looked down at his feet. There was a rattle of rock and debris, a gray blur of movement, and suddenly an arm thrust up from the ground and grabbed his leg.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Thomas?”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m sorry it’s been such a long wait, I’ve had some medical problems - all good now.  nimrod, :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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